mplement of candles; small enough to stand in the centre of
the table within reach of everybody's hand. Aunt Nancy had picked it
out herself. She must always respect the sentiment. No bought tree
would do for her on such an occasion. It must be to the manor born,
nourished in her own soil, warmed by the same sun and watered by the
same rains. The bringing of a tree from her own home at Carter Hall to
cheer the Colonel's temporary resting-place in Bedford Place, was to
her like the bringing of a live coal from old and much loved embers
with which to start a fire on a new hearth.

These several preparations complete--and it was quite late in the day
when they were complete (in the twilight really)--Chad threw a heap of
wood beside the fireplace, brushed the hearth of its ashes, laid a
pile of India Blue plates in front of its cheery blaze (no crime, the
Colonel often said, was equal to putting a hot duck on a cold plate),
placed the Colonel's chair in position, arranged a cushion in Aunt
Nancy's empty rocker; gave a few finishing touches to the table;
stopped a moment in the kitchen below to give some instructions to the
saddle-colored female as to the length of time a canvas-back should
remain in the oven, and stepped back into his little room, there to
array himself in white jacket and gloves, the latter tucked into his
outside pocket ready for instant use.

During these final preparations the Colonel was upstairs donning a
costume befitting the occasion--snow-white waistcoat, white scarf and
patent-leather pumps, with little bows over the toes, limp as a
poodle's ears, and his time-honored coat, worn wide open of course,
the occasion being one of great joyousness and good cheer. These
necessities of toilet over, the Colonel descended the narrow
staircase, threw wide the dining-room door, shook me cordially by the
hand with the manner of a man welcoming a distinguished guest whom he
had not seen for years (I had just arrived); bowed to Chad as if he
had been one of a long line of servants awaiting the coming of their
lord (festive occasions always produced this frame of mind in the
Colonel); laid a single white rose beside the plates of his two lady
guests--one for Miss Carter and the other for Miss Klutchem--and
glancing around the apartment expressed his admiration of all that had
been done. Then he settled himself in his easy chair, with his feet on
the fender, and spread his moist, newly-washed hands to the blaze.