began to tell Livingstone how they had
particularly wanted him to dine with them that day as an old friend of
his had promised to come to them, but they had supposed, of course,
that he had been overrun with invitations for the day and, as they had
not seen him of late, thought that he had probably gone out of town,
until her husband saw him at the club the night before where he had gone
to find some poor lone bachelor who might have no other invitation.

"You know Will has always been very fond of you," she said; "and he says
you have been working too hard of late and have not been looking well.
When I didn't get my usual contributions from you this Christmas I
didn't know what to make of it, but I think that on my round this
morning I have found out the reason?"

Livingstone knew the reason, but he did not tell her. The knowing smile
that lit her face, however, mystified him and he flushed a little under
her searching eyes.

"Will was sure he saw you in the club last night," she persisted, "and
he tried to catch you, but you ran off; and now I have come for you and
will take no refusal."

Livingstone expressed his regret that he could not come. A wave of his
hand towards the curly heads and beaming faces clustered before them and
towards the long table gleaming in the dining-room beyond explained his
reason.

"I am having a Christmas dinner myself," he said.

"Then you will come in after they go?" insisted Mrs. Wright, and as
Livingstone knew they were going early he assented.

"Who are your friends?" she asked. "What a pleasant-looking man, and
what lovely children! That little girl,--I thought it was Cupid when she
had the bandage on her eyes and now I am sure of it."

"Let me present them to you," said Livingstone, and he presented Mr.
Clark as his partner and Kitty as Santa Claus's partner.

"I did not know you had a partner?" she asked.

"It is my Christmas gift from Santa Claus," he said. "One of them; I
have many."

CHAPTER XVII

When Livingstone walked into Mrs. Wright's drawing-room that evening he
had never had such a greeting, and he had never been in such spirits.
His own Christmas dinner had been the success of his life. He could
still see those happy faces about his board, and hear those joyous
voices echoing through his house.

The day seemed to have been one long dream of delight. From the moment
when he had turned to go after the little child to ask her to show him
the way to