e is as solemn as a judge," remarked Mr. Dean one evening as he
lingered at the dinner table after Mary and Marjorie had excused
themselves and gone upstairs on the plea of studying to-morrow's
lessons. "I counseled Marjorie, the night I took her to Devon Inn to
dinner, to let matters work out in their own way. That was some time
ago. Perhaps I'd better take a hand and see what I can do toward ending
this internal war. Christmas will soon be here. We can't have our Day of
Days spoiled by one youngster's perversity."
"I have thought of that, too," returned Mrs. Dean, smiling, "and I have
a plan. I shall need your help to carry it out, though."
When she had finished the laying out of her clever scheme for a
congenial Christmas all around, Mr. Dean threw back his head in a hearty
laugh. "It's decidedly ingenious, and in keeping," was his tribute.
"I'll help you put it through, with pleasure. But after Christmas----"
He paused, his laughing eyes growing grave.
"After Christmas our services as peace advocates may not be needed,"
supplemented Mrs. Dean. "At least, I hope they may not. I am still of
the opinion, however, that Mary must be left to repent of her own folly.
If she is coaxed and wheedled into good humor she will never realize how
badly she has behaved."
"I suppose that is so. But, naturally, I am more interested in healing
our poor little soldier's hurts than in trying to bring a certain
stubborn young person to her senses. We will try out our idea. It will
insure one satisfactory day, I hope. Unless I prove a poor diplomat."
Although Marjorie's blithe voice was too frequently stilled in Mary's
presence, she was uniformly sunny when she and her Captain were alone
together. Now fairly familiar with Sanford, Mrs. Dean had made it a part
of her daily life to seek and assist certain families among the poor of
the little northern city. Now that Christmas was so near she was making
a special effort to gladden the hearts of those to whom life had seemed
to grudge even daily bread. She had contrived wisely to interest
Marjorie in this charitable work, with the idea of taking her mind from
the bitter disappointment Mary's change of heart had brought her, and
had been touched and gratified at the unselfish eagerness with which
Marjorie had taken up the work. The latter had aroused Jerry Macy's, as
well as Constance Stevens', interest in planning a merry Christmas for
the poor of Sanford. Constance was particularly
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