nd
letting it ripple over her shoulders.

"So do I," said Nellie Preston as well as she could with a mouthful of
chocolates. "Those blessed home folks of mine seem to have divined by
instinct the very things I most wanted."

It was the dusk of Christmas Eve and they were all in Jean Lawrence's
room at No. 16 Chestnut Terrace. No. 16 was a boarding-house, and
boarding-houses are not proverbially cheerful places in which to spend
Christmas, but Jean's room, at least, was a pleasant spot, and all the
girls had brought their Christmas presents in to show each other.
Christmas came on Sunday that year and the Saturday evening mail at
Chestnut Terrace had been an exciting one.

Jean had lighted the pink-globed lamp on her table and the mellow
light fell over merry faces as the girls chatted about their gifts. On
the table was a big white box heaped with roses that betokened a bit
of Christmas extravagance on somebody's part. Jean's brother had sent
them to her from Montreal, and all the girls were enjoying them in
common.

No. 16 Chestnut Terrace was overrun with girls generally. But just now
only five were left; all the others had gone home for Christmas, but
these five could not go and were bent on making the best of it.

Belle and Olive Reynolds, who were sitting on the bed--Jean could
never keep them off it--were High School girls; they were said to be
always laughing, and even the fact that they could not go home for
Christmas because a young brother had measles did not dampen their
spirits.

Beth Hamilton, who was hovering over the roses, and Nellie Preston,
who was eating candy, were art students, and their homes were too far
away to visit. As for Jean Lawrence, she was an orphan, and had no
home of her own. She worked on the staff of one of the big city
newspapers and the other girls were a little in awe of her
cleverness, but her nature was a "chummy" one and her room was a
favourite rendezvous. Everybody liked frank, open-handed and hearted
Jean.

"It was so funny to see the postman when he came this evening," said
Olive. "He just bulged with parcels. They were sticking out in every
direction."

"We all got our share of them," said Jean with a sigh of content.

"Even the cook got six--I counted."

"Miss Allen didn't get a thing--not even a letter," said Beth quickly.
Beth had a trick of seeing things that other girls didn't.

"I forgot Miss Allen. No, I don't believe she did," answered Jean
thoughtfu