"No!" she cried. "I can't play father!"
Lynda drew her to her closely. "Ann, little Ann, don't say that!" she
pleaded passionately: "I'll help you, and together we'll make it come
true. We must, we must!"
Her vehemence stilled the child. She put her hands on either side of
Lynda's face and timidly faltered: "I'll--I'll try."
"Thank you, dear. And now I want to tell you something else--we're going
to have a Christmas tree."
This meant nothing to the little hill-child, so she only stared.
"And you must come and help."
"You have something to teach her, Lyn," Betty broke in. There were tears
in her eyes. "Just think of a baby-thing like that not knowing the
thrills of Christmas."
Then she turned to Ann: "Go, sweetheart," she said, "and make a nest for
Bobbie on the bed across the hall." And then when Ann trotted off to do
the bidding, Betty asked: "What did he say, Lyn, when you told him?"
"He said he was glad, very glad. He has been willing, for a long time,
that I should take a child--when I saw one I wanted. He naturally
connects Ann with the Saxe Home; her being with you has strengthened
this belief. I shall let it go at that--for a time, Betty."
"Yes. It is better so. After he learns to know and love the child,"
Betty mused, "the way will be opened. And oh! Lyn, Ann is so wonderful.
She has the most remarkable character--so deep and tenderly true for
such a mite.
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