lls, and the soft swish
of sleigh-runners passing swiftly by. The voices of her neighbours came
to her, now and then, but never calling loud and joyous, as they were
wont to do. Every sound was subdued; every one moved softly and spoke
low, with the sick child constantly in their thoughts.

Guests came to Pumpkin House; long-invited guests, who could not well be
put off. Hildegarde knew this, and knew that her friends loved her and
the child no less because they were now forced to play the hosts, and to
make pleasure for the holiday visitors. Was this the evening of the
Flower Party? Her dress was hanging ready in the closet. Such a pretty
dress! She was to be a wild rose, and the graceful pink petals curved
over the skirt, and curled upward to form the bodice.

What a pity that some one could not wear it! She might send it over, in
case some one of the guests had no costume ready. Bell was to be an
apple-blossom; Gertrude, a lily. The twins would be splendid as Larkspur
and Scarlet Runner. And would Roger--would he go in fancy dress? She
could not imagine him doing anything of the kind, somehow. She thought
of him in boating dress, or in his camp jersey and knickerbockers--or,
as she saw him last, in evening dress, climbing over the snowy
roofs--she shuddered, and laid her hand on Hugh's arm, to make sure that
he was there. The child was safe, at any rate. He was not going to die.
Hildegarde kept this thought resolutely away from her, and was only
conscious of it as a dim horror, lurking in a corner of her brain. He
would be better soon, perhaps in a day or two. It might even be that she
would see Roger before he went back to the West,--for he would be going
soon, no doubt. He would be sorry, she thought, to go without seeing
her. But she had his gift; he had sent it to her the day after
Christmas. She put her hand to her throat, to make sure it was
there--the brooch that he had made himself for her, digging the gold,
refining, hammering, fashioning it, all with his own hands. She would
never wear any other brooch! Dear old Jack, too. He was missing her from
his vacation, she knew. Her mother said that he and Bell were practising
together every day, and that all the Merryweathers were delighted with
him. He and the twins were becoming fast friends. But they all missed
her. They all said that there was no luck about any of the houses, with
Hildegarde awa'. The tears came to the girl's eyes. Everybody was so
good to her