But Pussy was not so sure. "Do you think he'd come--if we did? Do you
really and truly think he would?"
"I think he might--"
The candle set in the window made a fine show from the street. They all
went out to look at it. Coming in, they sat around the stove together.
Pussy drew her chair very close to Ostrander. She laid her hand on his
knee. It was a little hand with short, fat fingers. In spite of lean
living, Pussy had managed to keep fat. She was adorably dimpled.
Ostrander, looking down at the fat little hand, began: "Once upon a
time--there was a doll--a Fluffy Ruffles doll, in a rosy gown--"
"Oh!" Pussy beat the small, fat hand upon his knee.
"And pink slippers--and it traveled miles to find some one to--love it.
And at last it said to St. Nicholas, 'Oh, dear St. Nick, I want to find
a little girl who hasn't any doll--'"
"Like me?" said Pussy.
"Like you--"
"And St. Nicholas said, 'Will you keep your pink slippers clean and
your nice pink frock clean if I give you to a poor little girl?' and the
Fluffy Ruffles doll said 'Yes,' so St. Nicholas looked and looked for a
poor little girl, and at last he came to a window--with a red candle--"
The fat little hand was still and Pussy was breathing hard.
"With a red candle, and there was a little girl who--didn't have any
doll--"
Pussy threw herself on him bodily. "Is it true? Is it true?" she
shrieked.
Milly, a little flushed and excited by the story, tried to say sedately:
"Of course it isn't true. It couldn't be--true--"
"Let's wish it to be true--" Ostrander said, "all three of us, with our
eyes shut--"
With this ceremony completed the little girls were advised gravely to go
to bed. "If Fluffy Ruffles and old St. Nick come by and find you up they
won't stop--"
"Won't they?"
"Of course not. You must shut the door and creep under your quilt and
cover up your head, and if you hear a noise you mustn't look."