Integrating Skills Reading A Sacrifice for Love 2
At seven o'clock the coffee was made and the pan was on the back of the stove, hot and ready to cook dinner. Jim was never late. Della doubled the watch chain in her hand and sat on the comer of the table near the door. When she heard his steps on the stairs away down on the first flight, she turned pale for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened. Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two -- and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read. It terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor a look showing that he did not approve, nor horror, nor any of the feelings that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her with that strange expression on his face.

Della got up and walked towards him. "Jim, honey," she cried, "don't look at me that way. lhad my hair cut off and sold it because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow again -- you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows very fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice -- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim. "Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, aren't I?" Jim looked about the room. "You say your hair is gone?" he asked. "You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you -- sold and gone. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went out of love for you. Shall I put dinner on, Jim?"

Jim seemed to awake. He hugged his Della. He drew a small package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table. "Don't make any mistake about me, Della," he said. "I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shampoo that could make me love my girl any less. Would you stop loving me if I'd had a shave? No. But if you open that package, you may see why I was upset at first."

Della tore at the string and paper. She gave a scream 0f joy, and then broke out in tears and cries. For there lay the Combs -- the set of combs that Della had been looking at so many times in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoiseshell, with jewels on the edges --just the right shade to wear in her beautiful hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and she had dreamed that she could have them. And now, they were hers, but her hair had gone. However, she hugged them to her breast, and at length she was able to look up and smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

Just then Della jumped up and cried, "Oh, oh!" Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash, as if reflecting her bright spirit. "Isn't it grand, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim threw himself down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled. "Della," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. So let's forget about it now and have our dinner, shall we?"
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