“I’m looking for something for my mother.” “I’ll help you,” Maida said. She took Rosie’s hand, and, thus linked together, the two little girls discussed everything that they saw. Suddenly, Rosie uttered a little cry of joy and stopped at a jeweler’s window. A tray with the label, “SOLID SILVER, $1,” overflowed with little heart-shaped pendants. “Mama’d love one of those,” Rosie said. “She just loved things she could hang round her neck.” They went inside. “It’s just what I want,” Rosie declared. “But I wish I had a little silver chain for it. I can’t afford one though,” she concluded wistfully. “Oh, I know what to do,” Maida said. “Buy a piece of narrow black velvet ribbon. Once my father gave my mother a beautiful diamond heart. Mother used to wear it on a black velvet ribbon. Afterwards papa bought her a chain of diamonds. But she always liked the black velvet best and so did papa and so did I. Papa said it made her neck look whiter.” The other three children looked curiously at Maida when she said, “diamond heart.” When she said, “string of diamonds,” they looked at each other. “Was that another of your dreams, Maida?” Rosie asked mischievously. “Dreams!” Maida repeated, firing up. But before she could say anything that she would regret, the dimples came. “Perhaps it was a dream,” she said prettily. “But if it was, then everything’s a dream.” “I believe every word that Maida says,” Dicky protested stoutly. “I believe that Maida believes it,” Arthur said with a smile. They all stopped with Rosie while she bought the black velvet ribbon and strung the heart on it. She packed it neatly away in the glossy box in which the jeweler had done it up. “If my mama doesn’t come back to wear that heart, nobody else ever will,” she said passionately. “Never—never—never—unless I have a little girl of my own some day.” “Your mother’ll come back,” Maida said. CHAPTER XIV: CHRISTMAS HAPPENINGS Maida was awakened early Christmas morning by a long, wild peal of the bell. Before she could collect her scattered wits, she heard Rosie’s voice, “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Oh, Granny, won’t you please let me run upstairs and wake Maida? I’ve got something dreadfully important to tell her.” Maida heard Granny’s bewildered “All roight, child,” heard Rosie’s rush through the living-room and then she bounded out of bed, prickling all over with excitement. “Maida,” Rosie called from the stairs, “wake up! I’ve something wonderful to tell you.” But Maida had guessed it. “I know,” she cried, as Rosie burst into the room. “Your mother’s come home.” “My mother’s come home,” Rosie echoed. The two little girls seized each other and hopped around the room in a mad dance, Maida chanting in a deep sing-song, “Your mother’s come home!” and Rosie screaming at the top of her lungs, “My mother’s come home!” After a few moments of this, they sank exhausted on the bed.