e to his
Mother it was quite a bright every-day letter, telling her how sorry he
was about Aggie, and detailing a few of the ways in which he and Shivers
meant to spend their holidays. His letter ended thus:--

"Shivers got a letter from his Mother yesterday with three pounds in it:
if you happen to see Uncle Dick, will you tell him I want a `Waterbury'
dreadfully?"

The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the
various boys went away, until at last only Bertie Fellowes and Shivers
were left in the great house. It had never appeared so large to either
of them before. The schoolroom seemed to have grown to about the size
of a church; the dining-room, set now with only one table, instead of
three, was not like the same; while the dormitory, which had never
before had any room to spare, was like a wilderness. To Bertie Fellowes
it was all dreary and wretched--to the boy from India, who knew no other
house in England, no other thought came than that it was a blessing that
he had one companion left.

"It is miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they strolled into the great
echoing schoolroom after a lonely tea, set at one corner of the smallest
of the three dining-tables; "just think if we had been on our way home
now--how different!"

"Just think if I had been left here by myself," said Shivers, and he
gave a shudder which fully justified his name.

"Yes--but--" began Bertie, then shamefacedly and with a blush, added:
"you know, when one wants to go home ever so badly, one never thinks
that some chaps haven't got a home to go to."

The evening went by; discipline was relaxed entirely, and the two boys
went to bed in the top empty dormitory, and told stories to each other
for a long time before they went to sleep. That night Bertie Fellowes
dreamt of Madame Tussaud's and the great pantomime at Drury Lane, and
poor Shivers of a long creeper-covered bungalow far away in the shining
East, and they both cried a little under the bed-clothes. Yet each put
a brave face on their desolate circumstances to each other, and so
another day began.

This was the day before Christmas Eve, that delightful day of
preparation for the greatest festival in all the year--the day when in
most households there are many little mysteries afoot, when parcels come
and go, and are smothered away so as to be ready when Santa Claus comes
his rounds; when some are busy decking the rooms with holly and
mistletoe; when the co