r on the rocks above the river
with a wreath in her hand, and in the stable at Bower's, with the lantern
shining above her head?

CHAPTER XIX

_In Which Christmas Comes to Crossroads._

NANCY'S plans for Christmas were ambitious. She talked it over with Sulie
Tyson. "I'll have Anne and her Uncle Rod. If she goes to him they will
eat their Christmas dinner alone. Her cousins are to be out of town."

Cousin Sulie agreed. She was a frail little woman, with gray hair drawn
up from her forehead above a high-bred face. She spoke with earnestness
on even the most trivial subjects. Now and then she had flashes of humor,
but they were rare. Her life had been sad, and she had always been
dependent. The traditions of her family had made it impossible for her to
indulge in any money-making occupation. Hence she had lived in other
people's houses. Usually with one or the other of two brothers, in
somewhat large households.

Her days, therefore, with Nancy were rapturous ones.

"There's something in the freedom which two women can have when they are
alone," she said, "that is glorious. We are ourselves. When men are
around we are always acting."

Nancy was not so subtle. "I am myself with Richard."

"No, you're not, Nancy. You are always trying to please him. You make him
feel important. You make him feel that he is the head of the house. You
know what I mean."

Nancy did know. But she didn't choose to admit it.

"Well, I like to please him." Then with a sudden burst of longing,
"Sulie, I want him here all of the time--to please."

"Oh, my dear," Sulie caught Nancy's hands up in her own, "oh, my dear.
How mothers love their sons. I am glad I haven't any. I used to long for
children. I don't any more. Nothing can hurt me as Richard hurts you,
Nancy."

Nancy refused to talk of it. "We will ask David and Brinsley; that will
be four men and three women, Sulie."

"Well, I can take care of David if you'll look after Brinsley and Rodman
Warfield. And that will leave your Richard for Anne."

Nancy's candid glance met her cousin's. "That is the way I had hoped it
might be--Richard and Anne. At first I thought it might be--and then
something happened. He went to New York and that was the--end."

"If you had been more of a match-maker," Sulie said, "you might have
managed. But you always think that such things are on the knees of the
gods. Why didn't you bring them together?"

"I tried," Nancy confessed. "But Eve--I