"And I can be happy as well as good," thought the young girl, as she skipped lightly over the ground. "What a delightful Christmas we are all going to have! how beautiful the world is! Oh, yes! God is very good, and I ought to love him; I do love him. I wonder if ever a time will come when I shall feel that I love him best of all."
"Hullo! I say, Molly Lavender, won't you stop for a minute?"
The voice was Matilda's, who came hurrying and panting across the quadrangle.
"I saw you ahead of me, and I rushed on," she said. "I want to speak to you very badly; I wonder if you will do something for me. You have professed to be friendly to me since I came to St. Dorothy's; well, now is the time for you to prove your own words."
"I will do what I can for you, of course, Matty," said Molly, in her pleasantest voice. "Now, what is the matter?"
"Matter enough," pouted Matilda; "you don't know what a day I've had! All my Christmas is completely ruined! You can just make it bearable for me, if you like."
"What can I do?" said Molly, but somehow or other the pleasure had gone out of her voice; she had a certain premonition of what was coming.
"I will tell you," said Matilda, slipping her hand through Molly's arm, and swinging along, in her usual ungainly gait, by her slight, young companion's side. "I have just had a letter from mother, and my cousin Bob, who lives with us—bother him!—has gone and taken scarlet fever, and of course he is at home, and of course I can't go back for Christmas, and of course mother wants me to stay at Redgarth, but I won't; so there!"
"Oh, I am really sorry for you!" said Molly. "But what is to be done?"
"Why, this," said Matilda eagerly; "I heard Cecil and Kate talking over that delightful scheme of yours for the seaside, and I want to join you. I know perfectly well that neither Kate nor Cecil can bear me, but you profess to be my friend, and you can manage it for me, Molly. Now, will you say 'yes,' Molly? Say you will be my friend; say you will manage it for me."