For half a minute he stood by the boy’s side, then touched him on the shoulder.  “What is it, son?  Can’t you make the old fellow see you?”

The child shook his head.  “Somebody always gets in ahead.  I ain’t tall enough.”

“Here, hold your crutches.”  With a swift movement Laine swung the boy on his shoulders.  “There, can you see him all right?”

“Yes, sir.  And he can see me!” The thin little hand was held up, and Laine felt the quiver that ran over the frail body.  “He sees me!”

“Well, my man”—­Santa Claus was noticing at last—­“what is it that you want?”

“A coat for mother.  Black, please.”  Soft and eager the words came quickly.  “And a worsted skirt, and some shoes for Dick, and a muff for Katie.”

“Oh, I’m not bringing anything but toys this time.  Only toys.  Quick, what are they?”

On his shoulders again Laine felt a quiver, this time of sudden relaxation, and heard a sob that was quickly smothered.  “Oh, I don’t need toys, and mother hasn’t got a piece of coat.”

Laine coughed and caught the eye of Santa Claus, and by telepathy made the latter understand his questions must continue.  Two minutes and they were over, the child’s name and address taken, his desires made known, and as he put him down on the floor Laine took from the trembling fingers the piece of paper which for hours had been tightly held and put it in his pocket.

“All right, son.”  He slipped some money in his hand.  “Run down-stairs and get something to eat before you go home, and don’t worry about the things—­they’ll be there Christmas.  Scoot!” And with a pat Laine sent him off.

Coming back he turned to Claudia.  “Are you through up here?  The yellow pipe and the socks for the man who gets locked in the garret are down-stairs, I suppose.”

For answer Claudia looked in his face as if not hearing.  “Merciful goodness!” she said.  “I had forgotten all about this being Tuesday!  I ought to be home this minute.  A friend from Washington is coming to dinner to-night.  What time is it?”

Laine looked at his watch.  “A friend from Washington” was what he read.  He turned the face toward her.  “What is it?  I can’t see it in this light.”

“Seven-twenty-five!” Claudia sat down dejectedly.  “You don’t suppose they could be waiting, do you?”

“I don’t.”  Laine smiled a twisted little smile.  “Channing by nature is a train-despatcher.  Dinner on the dot and served swiftly is his one household demand.  They will be half through before we can get there.”

“And I’m starving.”  She got up.  “Well, I can’t help it.  I had no business forgetting, but I’m always doing things I oughtn’t.”

“We’ll go up to Sherry’s.  Dinner isn’t limited to Hope’s house.  I’ll telephone and explain.”

“Oh, I mustn’t!  It isn’t just dinner.  I have an engagement.  Do you think we could get there very quickly?  I can’t understand how I forgot!”