“Really this kimono is much too long.”  She looked down on the loosened hem.  “And I oughtn’t to wear my best accordion-pleated pale-blue crepe de Chine and shadow lace when I am so busy.  But dark-gray things are so unbecoming, and, besides, I may have a good deal of company to-night.  The King of Love and the Queen of Hearts may drop in, and I wouldn’t have time to change.  Miss Lucrecia Beck says I’m going to write a book when I’m big, I’m so fond of making up and of love-things.  She don’t know I’ve written one already.  If he hadn’t happened to be standing on that corner looking so—­so—­I don’t know what, exactly, but so something I couldn’t help running down and asking him to come up—­I never would have had the day I’ve had to-day and am going to have to-morrow.”

Stooping, she pinned the hem of her coat carefully, then, stretching out her arms, stood on her tiptoes and spun noiselessly round and round.  “Can’t help it!” she said, as if to some one who objected.  “I’m so glad I’m living, so glad I spoke to him, and know him, that I’m bound to let it out.  Father says I mustn’t speak to strangers; but I’d have to be dead not to talk, and I didn’t think about his being a man.  He looked so lonely.”

With quick movements a big gingham apron was tied over the bulky coat, and, putting the candle on the table in the middle of the room, Carmencita began to move swiftly from cot to cupboard, from chairs to book-shelves, and from behind and under each bundles and boxes of varying sizes were brought forth and arrayed in rows on the little table near the stove.  As the pile grew bigger so did her eyes, and in her cheeks, usually without color, two spots burned deep and red.  Presently she stood off and surveyed her work and, hands clasped behind, began to count, her head nodding with each number.

“Thirteen big ones and nineteen little ones,” she said, “and I don’t know a thing that’s in one of them.  Gracious! this is a nice world to live in!  I wonder what makes people so good to me?  Mrs. Robinsky brought up those six biggest ones to-night.”  Lightly her finger was laid on each.  “She said they were left with her to be sent up to-morrow morning, but there wouldn’t be a thing to send if she waited, as the children kept pinching and poking so to see what was in them.  I’d like to punch myself.  Noodles gave me that.”  Her head nodded at a queer-shaped package wrapped in brown paper and tied with green cord.  “He paid nineteen cents for it.  He told me so.  I didn’t pay but five for what I gave him.  He won’t brush his teeth or clean his finger-nails, and I told him I wasn’t going to give him a thing if he didn’t, but I haven’t a bit of hold-out-ness at Christmas.  I wonder what’s in that?”