diminutive legs could carry her.

"Mrs. Murphee, I am readee," she called.

There was no telling what plot they were hatching, these two souls from
nations as widely different as night from day. Boxes were pulled from
mysterious closets. Mrs. Murphy and one of the maids emerged from the
cellar with their arms full of greens and, stranger still, the dignified
Professor of English Literature actually made his appearance at the
kitchen door with a big market basket on one arm and--but what the
Professor carried under the other arm had been carefully concealed with
wrapping paper. These things he deposited with Mrs. Murphy.

"It's a pleasant sight, surely, to see you this Christmas Eve marnin',
Professor," exclaimed the Irish woman. "You're as ruddy as a holly
berry, sir, and no mistake."

"Well, Mrs. Murphy, I'm a Christmas Green, you know," answered the
Professor, and Mrs. Murphy laughed like a child over the little joke.

"As for the young Japanese lady, she is that busy, sir. You would niver
expect a haythen born to take on so about the birthday of our blessed
Lord. But she's half a Catholic already, sir, and she's bought a holy
candle to burn to-night."

"You're a good woman, Mrs. Murphy," said the Professor, standing beside
the well-laden kitchen table, "and whatever she learns from you will do
her good, too. She's a long way from home and I have no doubt she'll be
very thankful for a little mothering, poor child."

"Indade, and she's as cheerful as the day is long, sir. And so is the
other young lady, and she's used to a deal of rejicin' in her family,
too. I can tell by the way she loves the entertainin'. Her company
niver goes away hungry and thirsty, sir. It's tea and cake always and
more besides. 'Have you a little spare room in your oven so that I can
bake some muffins for some friends this mornin', Mrs. Murphy?' she'll
say of a Sunday. She's that hospitable and kind, sir. There's nobody
like her in Queen's. I'd be sorry ever to lose her."

"Should you call her hair red, Mrs. Murphy?" asked the Professor
irrelevantly.

"It's more red than anything else, sir, especially when the weather's
damp."

"And what color should you say her eyes were, Mrs. Murphy?"

"An' you've not seen her eyes, surely, sir, if you can be askin' me that
question. They're as blue--as blue, sir, like the skies in summer."

The Professor blinked his own brown eyes very thoughtfully.

"Well, good day, Mrs. Murphy, I must be off