whom she had spoken, for the moment he had sympathy
of which on yesterday there would have been no understanding. She
could not be more than twelve or thirteen, he thought, but condition
and circumstance had made her a woman in many matters, and the art of
shopping she knew well. Slowly, very slowly, she made her way to the
particular counter at which her precious purchase was to be made,
lingering here and there to gaze at things as much beyond her hope of
possession as the stars of heaven; and, following her slow-walking,
Van Landing could see her eyes brighten and yearn, her lips move, her
hand outstretch to touch and then draw back quickly, and also every
now and then he could see her shake her head.

"What is it?" he asked. "Why do you do that? Is there anything in here
you would like to get, besides the thing you came for?"

"Anything I'd like to get!" The words were repeated as if not heard
aright. "Anybody would know you'd never been a girl. There isn't much
in here I wouldn't like to get if I didn't have to pay for it."

"But not rattles and dolls and drums and pop-guns and boxing-gloves
and all the other things you've looked at. Girls of your age--"

"This girl wasn't looking at them for herself. I'm 'most grown up now.
But everybody on our street has got a baby, and a lot of children
besides. Mrs. Perry has twins and a baby, and Mrs. Latimer always has
two on a bottle at the same time. I'm just buying things in my mind.
It's the only way I can buy 'em, and Christmas wouldn't be Christmas
if you couldn't buy some way. Sallie Simcoe will go crazy if she don't
get a doll that whistles. She saw one in a window once. It was a
Whistling Jim and cost a dollar. She won't get it. Oh, here it is, Mr.
Van! Here's the counter where the jewelry things are."

As she neared it she nodded to Van Landing and pointed to her father,
who, hand on her shoulder, had kept close to her, then beckoned him to
come nearer. "He can't see, I know"--her voice was excited--"but take
him away, won't you? I wouldn't have him guess it, not for _anything_
on earth! I'll be through in a minute."

In moments incredibly few, but to Van Landing tormentingly long, she
was back again, and close to her heart she was hugging a tiny package
with one hand, while the other was laid on her father's arm. "I got
it," she whispered; "it's perfectly beautiful." She spoke louder. "I
guess we'd better be going now. I know you're hungry, and so am I.
Come