With their heads close together they listened and watched.
“What are we to do when they have finished, Tory, to show our appreciation?” Kara whispered. “I am afraid Dr. McClain would not be willing to have me see them. Shall I go to my room while you receive them?”
“No,” Tory shook her head, glancing about the room. On a center table was a bowl of red roses, the flowers Mr. Fenton cared for most, that he had brought as a farewell offering to Kara.
Tory gathered half a dozen in her hands.
“Throw these out and wave good-night,” she murmured.
Kara was not able to reach so far and seemed shy at making the attempt, so that the other girl threw the roses and saw them fall, crimson spots of color on the white snow.
Don picked one up and waved it, lifting his hat. The other boys followed his example.
“Good-night, good-by, Kara,” they called.
Donald’s last glance and good-by was for Tory Drew.
As they closed the window and reluctantly turned away, Dorothy McClain wore an unusual expression. She was frowning and biting her lips, her color warmer than usual.