Hand on
the knob, she listened, and, the soft breathing assuring her he was
asleep, she closed the door, gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, and
hurried back to the cot, close to which she sat down, put on her
stockings, and tied on her feet a pair of worn woolen slippers, once
the property of her prudent and practical friend, Miss Cattie Burns.
Slipping on her big coat over her gown, she tiptoed to the mantel,
lighted the candle upon it, and looked at the clock.
"Half past twelve," she said, "and Father's stocking not filled yet!"
As she got down from the chair on which she had stood to see the hour
her foot caught in the ripped hem of her coat. She tripped, and would
have fallen had she not steadied herself against the table close to
the stove, and as she did so she laughed under her breath.
"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.
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