“Why didn’t you ask me before, Little Scholar?” said a voice.
“Why, it is You, just as Cousin Helen told me!” cried Katy.
She must have spoken in her sleep, for Aunt Izzie half woke up, and said:
“What is it? Do you want anything?”
The dream broke, and Katy roused, to find herself in bed, with the first sunbeams struggling in at the window, and Aunt Izzie raised on her elbow, looking at her with a sort of sleepy wonder.
Chapter X.
St. Nicholas and St. Valentine
What are the children all doing to-day?” said Katy, laying down “Norway and the Norwegians,” which she was reading for the fourth time; “I haven’t seen them since breakfast.”
Aunt Izzie, who was sewing on the other side of the room, looked up from her work.
“I don’t know,” she said; “they’re over at Cecy’s, or somewhere. They’ll be back before long, I guess.”
Her voice sounded a little odd and mysterious, but Katy didn’t notice it.
“I thought of such a nice plan yesterday,” she went on. “That was that all of them should hang their stockings up here to-morrow night instead of in the nursery. Then I could see them open their presents, you know. Mayn’t they, Aunt Izzie? It would be real fun.”
“I don’t believe there will be any objection,” replied her aunt. She looked as if she were trying not to laugh. Katy wondered what was the matter with her.
It was more than two months now since Cousin Helen went away, and Winter had fairly come. Snow was falling out-doors. Katy could see the thick flakes go whirling past the window, but the sight did not chill her. It only made the room look warmer and more cosy. It was a pleasant room now. There was a bright fire in the grate. Everything was neat and orderly, the air was sweet with mignonette, from a little glass of flowers which stood on the table, and the Katy who lay in bed, was a very different-looking Katy from the forlorn girl of the last chapter.
Cousin Helen’s visit, though it lasted only one day, did great good. Not that Katy grew perfect all at once. None of us do that, even in books. But it is everything to be started in the right path. Katy’s feet were on it now; and though she often stumbled and slipped, and often sat down discouraged, she kept on pretty steadily, in spite of bad days, which made her say to herself that she was not getting forward at all.
These bad days, when everything seemed hard, and she herself was cross and fretful, and drove the children out of her room, cost Katy many bitter tears. But after them she would pick herself up, and try again, and harder. And I think that in spite of drawbacks, the little scholar, on the whole, was learning her lesson pretty well.
Cousin Helen was a great comfort all this time. She never forgot Katy. Nearly every week some little thing came from her. Sometimes it was a pencil note, written from her sofa. Sometimes it was an interesting book, or a new magazine, or some pretty little thing for the room. The crimson wrapper which Katy wore was one of her presents, so were the bright chromos of Autumn leaves which hung on the wall, the little stand for the books – all sorts of things. Katy loved to look about her as she lay. All the room seemed full of Cousin Helen and her kindness.
“I wish I had something pretty to put into everybody’s stocking,” she went on, wistfully; “but I’ve only got the muffatees for Papa, and these reins for Phil.” She took them from under her pillow as she spoke – gay worsted affairs, with bells sewed on here and there. She had knit them herself, a very little bit at a time.
“There’s my pink sash,” she said suddenly, “I might give that to Clover. I only wore it once, you know, and I don’t think I got any spots on it. Would you please fetch it and let me see, Aunt Izzie? It’s in the top drawer.”
Aunt Izzie brought the sash. It proved to be quite fresh, and they both decided that it would do nicely for Clover.
“You know I sha’n’t want sashes for ever so long,” said Katy, in a rather sad tone. “And this is a beauty.”
When she spoke next her voice was bright again.
“I wish I had something real nice for Elsie. Do you know, Aunt Izzie – I think that Elsie is the dearest little girl that ever was.”
“I’m glad you’ve found it out,” said Aunt Izzie, who had always been specially fond of Elsie.
“What she wants most of all is a writing-desk,” continued Katy. “And Johnny wants a sled. But, oh, dear! those are such big things. And I’ve only got two dollars and a quarter.”
Aunt Izzie marched out of the room without saying anything. When she came back she had something folded up in her hand.
“I didn’t know what to give you for Christmas, Katy,” she said, “because Helen sends you such a lot of things that there don’t seem to be anything you haven’t already. So I thought I’d give you this, and let you choose for yourself. But if you’ve set your heart on getting presents for the children, perhaps you’d rather have it now.” So saying, Aunt Izzie laid on the bed a crisp, new five-dollar bill!
“How good you are!” cried Katy, flushed with pleasure. And indeed Aunt Izzie did seem to have grown wonderfully good of late. Perhaps Katy had got hold of her smooth handle!
Being now in possession of seven dollars and a quarter, Katy could afford to be gorgeously generous. She gave Aunt Izzie an exact description of the desk she wanted.
“It’s no matter about it’s being very big,” said Katy, “but it must have a blue velvet lining, and an inkstand, with a silver top. And please buy some little sheets of paper and envelopes, and a pen-handle; the prettiest you can find. Oh! and there must be a lock and key. Don’t forget that, Aunt Izzie.”
“No, I won’t. What else?”
“I’d like the sled to be green,” went on Katy, “and to have a nice name. Sky-Scraper would be nice, if there was one. Johnny saw a sled once called Sky-Scraper, and she said it was splendid. And if there’s money enough left, Aunty, won’t you buy me a real nice book for Dorry, and another for Cecy, and a silver thimble for Mary? Her old one is full of holes. Oh! and some candy. And something for Debbie and Bridget – some little thing, you know. I think that’s all!”
Was ever seven dollars and a quarter expected to do so much? Aunt Izzie must have been a witch, indeed, to make it hold out. But she did, and next day all the precious bundles came home. How Katy enjoyed untying the strings!
Everything was exactly right.
“There wasn’t any Sky-Scraper,” said Aunt Izzie, “so I got ‘Snow-Skimmer’ instead.”
“It’s beautiful, and I like it just as well,” said Katy contentedly.
“Oh, hide them, hide them!” she cried with sudden terror, “somebody’s coming.” But the somebody was only Papa, who put his head into the room as Aunt Izzie, laden with bundles, scuttled across the hall.
Katy was glad to catch him alone. She had a little private secret to talk over with him. It was about Aunt Izzie, for whom she, as yet, had no present.
“I thought perhaps you’d get me a book like that one of Cousin Helen’s, which Aunt Izzie liked so much,” she said. “I don’t recollect the name exactly. It was something about a Shadow. But I’ve spent all my money.”
“Never mind about that,” said Dr. Carr. “We’ll make that right. ‘The Shadow of the Cross’