d up and strode across to the table where she
and Lord Simon sat. The Seraph ran after him and was gathered into her arms
while she smiled and talked to father over his curls.

"Wonder if she's askin' him for another lapis lazarus necklace," said
Angel, his mouth full of charlotte russe, "she'd better not, 'cos we're all
he can afford now."

I did not like the idea either, so when father came back with The Seraph
hanging to his coat tails, I remarked, with some asperity:

"She said you nearly ruined yourself once to buy her a pair of
cream-coloured ponies."

"Yes, and a lapis lazarus necklace," added Angel, accusingly.

"I want a cweam-culled pony!" shouted The Seraph.

Father leaned over us with almost the expression of Mrs. Handsomebody in
his eye.

"You shall all have ponies," he said, "any old colour you like, cream, or
pink, or blue, if you'll shut up and be good."

Dazzled by the vision of a herd of rainbow-coloured ponies we suffered
ourselves to be led in silence from the dining-room. Outside, father said,
still with the look of Mrs. Handsomebody in his eye:

"I have to make a call on a lady in Argyle Road, my godmother. Do you feel
prepared to come, and be good boys, or shall I send you back to your
governess?"

"Argyle Road!" exclaimed Angel. "That's where Giftie lived."

"Want to see Giftie!" came from The Seraph, "and Colin."

"Are you going to be good?"

"Rather," said Angel. "Please take us."

Another hansom was called. We were quite prepared to see it stop before the
large square house where Giftie lived. It stopped. There was a clamour of
barks from three Scottish terriers as we entered the gate. In a second I
had Giftie in my arms; her little, hard wriggling body pressed to my
breast; her little red tongue showing between her pointed white teeth. She
was wild with the joy of welcoming us, but Colin walked solemnly away, his
tail very much in the air. The third dog I felt sure was one of Giftie's
pups. "His name is Tam," shouted the tall grey-haired lady, having suddenly
appeared, and I discovered then that we were in the drawing-room, and
pulled off my cap, and smiled up at her.

"I've been saving him for you," she went on, "hoping you would turn up. The
other two are sold. But Tam is for you boys, and oh, Davy," turning to
father, "you must let me have them for Christmas. We shall have an enormous
Christmas Tree, and look! it's beginning to snow."

It was true. Great white flakes wer