“Merry Christmas!” she said. “You see!”—she glanced down to the rose she wore. “The others make the most splendid bit of color in the ward.”
“But they were for you!”
“They are not any the less mine because I am letting other people have a chance to enjoy them.”
Under all his gayety he was curiously diffident with her. All the pretty speeches he would have made to Carlotta under the circumstances died before her frank glance.
There were many things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry her mother had died; that the Street was empty without her; that he looked forward to these daily meetings with her as a holy man to his hour before his saint. What he really said was to inquire politely whether she had had her Christmas dinner.
Sidney eyed him, half amused, half hurt.
“What have I done, Max? Is it bad for discipline for us to be good friends?”
“Damn discipline!” said the pride of the staff.
Carlotta was watching them from the chapel. Something in her eyes roused the devil of mischief that always slumbered in him.
“My car's been stalled in a snowdrift downtown since early this morning, and I have Ed's Peggy in a sleigh. Put on your things and come for a ride.”