The gayety with which she had come in was slipping away, now that she had seen the tree for the Dear Child. Presently she went in the other room and opened the box where she kept the tissue paper. But the flowers would be something, after all, in the dull little room on Christmas Day. She lifted out the sheets, and stood staring at them. There were not more than three dozen sheets, and she had three dozen of the roses yet to make. One rose required a sheet of paper. These must be delivered by Christmas Eve—to-morrow night! No more paper would be given out till Monday. She could not even have the flowers for Anthony on Christmas day....
If only Christmas were to-morrow!
She went back into Anthony’s room and sat down beside his bed. She dreaded to tell him that even the poor “little much” of a surprise was not to be his. She put it off until they should have had their supper. After supper, in the dark, they could just see the tall shadow of the Christmas tree leaning against the opposite wall in the snow. Presently the Window Across flamed bright with the lighted globes within the room.
The tall Christmas tree there against the wall! Mother Margaret sat and stared at it. It seemed such a waste that it should be there all this time, with no one enjoying it. It seemed such a waste that it should stand there to-morrow, with no one enjoying it. It would be just as beautiful, decorated now, as it would be on Christmas Day....
And then Mother Margaret’s heart stood still at what it thought. But it thought about it once, it thought about it twice, and then it began to beat as Mother Margaret’s heart did not often beat any more. She sprang up and stood looking out the window, across the court to the tree. Could she possibly bring herself to do it? Would she dare? What would they think—what would they do—Oh, but she must try!
“Tony,” she said, “Mother must go out again now, for a few minutes.”
She slipped down to the street, and around the corner to the avenue. There was no difficulty in distinguishing the apartment building. She walked boldly in the door and to the elevator.
“Fourth,” she said with confidence.
The white-capped maid opened the door. She looked at Mother Margaret as a stranger, and Mother Margaret wanted to say: “Oh, but I know you very well!” Only, when she had seen her before, in the Window Across, she had looked quite small and like anybody; whereas she seemed now a person towering infinitely tall.
“I want,” said little Mother Margaret, quite loud and bold, “to see your mistress. At once.”