The happenings of that afternoon were vividly pictured now to Barbara, while she sat in her room, pondering. It was evening again, and with quiet hours spread out before her a perfect race of happenings dashed in and out of her perturbed mind.
Nicky, always Nicky, but why?
“Of course I’ve never had a sister or a brother,” she reasoned, “and perhaps I’ve needed one. And Nicky is so interesting and so sort of mysterious.”
But when he climbed over the rail of the back porch at the Community House that afternoon, and managed, as only he could manage, to get Babs’ attention, she was bothered. She didn’t want the girls to know about that, and of course she did not know that Cara had overheard anything. It was better for her that she did not, for that would have added greatly to her anxieties.
It had all happened so quickly. He came back after she explained to him why she could not exhibit the lovely candlesticks, and naturally, he was heart-broken about that. But she insisted he would have to tell who carved them if she put them in the show-room. He protested he could not do that, no, never, not for anything, and so he had gone away a very sorrowful little boy, taking back the precious pair of candlesticks in the home-made oilcloth covering.
And the queerest part of it was he insisted they could not be sold, as much as he and his folks needed money, he couldn’t sell those candlesticks. They were beautifully carved and beautifully tinted, but Barbara was too anxious to get rid of Nicky to examine them very closely.
He came back a little later and begged that she would give him five dollars. He said he simply had to have it, and strange to say he was so excited he could not keep his voice down. It was then that Cara overheard him sobbing and pleading, and it was then that Barbara tried to scold and reason with him.
Why should he bother her so? Hadn’t she done all she could for him? And from whom would or could she borrow five dollars at a few moments’ notice?
“But you’re my friend, ain’t you?” he pointed out reasonably enough, “and I’ve got to have it.”
“Have you no other friends?” Barbara had asked him then.