On her feet, Carmencita patted the stocking hanging from the mantel, took off the big coat, kicked the large, loose slippers across the room, blew out the candle, and stood for a moment poised on the tip of her toes.
"If I could"—the words came breathlessly—"if I could I'd dance like the lady I was named for, but it might wake Father. I mustn't wake Father. Good night, everybody—and a merry Christmas to all this nice, big world!"
With a spring that carried her across the room Carmencita was on her cot and beneath its covering, which she drew up to her face. Under her breath she laughed joyously, and her arms were hugged to her heart.
"To-morrow—I mean to-day—I am going to tell them. They don't understand yet. They think it was just an accident." She shook her head. "It wasn't an accident. After they're married I'm going to tell them. Tell them how it happened."