“I wonder if Tommy’s telling Cora,” said Nancy uneasily.
“Let him, if he wants to; I’m sure I don’t care. This hanging stockings Christmas and talking about Santa Claus, is silly and heathenish, anyway.”
Nancy still looked uneasy. When Tommy entered she did not hesitate. “What did Cora mean by speaking to you like that? What had you done?” she said.
“I hadn’t done anything.”
“What did she mean?” persisted Aunt Nancy. Aunt Sarah was looking at him; so was his uncle.
The little boy looked at them. In his small face was an expression of scorn so high that it was entirely above all petty, childish resentment. “She said that because I wouldn’t tell her what was in my stocking,” he replied.
“Why wouldn’t you tell her?” inquired his aunt Sarah sharply.
“Because I am ashamed,” said Tommy. “I shall never tell anybody, because I am ashamed.”
“Ashamed of what?” demanded Sarah. Her face was flushed.
“Ashamed of you all,” replied Tommy simply.