"But it's so pretty about Santa Claus, and so funny, isn't it, Miss Campbell?" said Maggie, peering up into Eleanor's face with her bright, restless, gray-green eyes.
"Nothing can be funny or pretty that mamma tells you not to talk about, Maggie," said Miss Campbell.
"Oh no; I know that, and I didn't mean to speak of it again. But except for that—if Flop hadn't got frightened, it would be nice, wouldn't it? I have such a lot of fairies all my own, and I wanted Flop to have some, and she wouldn't."
"She was very wise; and I think, Maggie, you might find some better things to amuse yourself with than such fancies," said Eleanor rather severely.
Maggie's face fell.
"I'm always naughty," she whispered to herself. "Even Miss Campbell thinks me so already, and I'm sure fairies teach me to be good."
In her vague childish way she had been looking forward to full sympathy from her eldest sister, and her hard tone disconcerted her.
"Now run off, dears, quickly," said Eleanor; "you've got your goodies safe."
Off they trotted, Towzer's little fat hands clasping tight her treasures.
"Dollies and doodies; Towzer and Flop dot just the same," she said with delight to nurse when they reached their own domain.