Nellie's bright blue eyes grew soft with pity. "I tell you what," she exclaimed. "I'll baptize Hannah, then she'll be a Gentile, and Santa Claus will come, no matter what. And when your mama sees how nice it is, she won't care."
"But, you said a priest has to baptize anybody," objected Virginia.
"He does 'less it's a time of danger and you can't get any priest. Then any Catholic can baptize anybody. My mama baptized our washerwoman's little baby 'cause they knew it was going to die before Father Murphy could get there. And ain't this a time of danger?"
"Nobody's dying." Virginia was distressingly literal.
Hannah looked from one friend to the other, hoping against hope.
"No, but there's danger Santa Claus won't come to see Hannah less'n sump'n is done mighty quick," came Nellie's ready reply. "And can we get a priest? You go get one, Virginia. Go get one."
Clearly there was no answer to this. The ceremony was set for early afternoon when Grandmother Halloran took her nap and Nellie could borrow the bottle of holy water from her shelf. As to the place, there were six boys at the Hallorans' always in the way; Mrs. Lawrence had guests; obviously the baptismal rite would have to be performed at Hannah's home. After lunch the children assembled in the sun parlor of the Josephs' home, in full view of Mrs. Joseph who sat embroidering in the library, the French door closed between them, so that she did not hear.
Nellie had secured the bottle of holy water, and, arrayed in her brother Joe's long, black rain-coat, a towel about her neck for a stole, acted as priest. Virginia, not to be left out of such an important affair, consented to be godmother. In lieu of a prayer manual, Nellie used one of Hannah's story books. She chose a verse, which, because she knew it by heart, she could read exceptionally well:
"Little boy blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep are in the meadow,