er children," said Maude.
"You wouldn't blame him if he did that,--would you?"

The response to this appeal cannot be said to have been enthusiastic....

After dinner, when at last all of them were in bed, we dressed the tree;
it might better be said that Maude and Miss Allsop dressed it, while I
gave a perfunctory aid. Both the women took such a joy in the process,
vying with each other in getting effects, and as I watched them eagerly
draping the tinsel and pinning on the glittering ornaments I wondered why
it was that I was unable to find the same joy as they. Thus it had been
every Christmas eve. I was always tired when I got home, and after dinner
relaxation set in.

An electrician had come while we were at the table, and had fastened on
the little electric bulbs which did duty as candles.

"Oh," said Maude, as she stood off to survey the effect, "isn't it
beautiful! Come, Miss Allsop, let's get the presents."

They flew out of the room, and presently hurried back with their arms
full of the usual parcels: parcels from Maude's family in Elkington, from
my own relatives, from the Blackwoods and the Peterses, from Nancy. In
the meantime I had had my own contributions brought up, the man of war,
the locomotive, the big doll. Maude stood staring.

"Hugh, they'll be utterly ruined!" she exclaimed.

"The boys might as well have something instructive," I replied, "and as
for Biddy--nothing's too good for her."

"I might have known you wouldn't forget them, although you are so
busy."....

We filled the three stockings hung by the great fireplace. Then, with a
last lingering look at the brightness of the tree, she stood in the
doorway and turned the electric switch.

"Not before seven to-morrow morning, Miss Allsop," she said. "Hugh, you
will get up, won't you? You mustn't miss seeing them. You can go back to
bed again."

I promised.

Evidently, this was Reality to Maude. And had it not been one of my
dreams of marriage, this preparing for the children's Christmas,
remembering the fierce desires of my own childhood? It struck me, after I
had kissed her good night and retired to my dressing-room, that fierce
desires burned within me still, but the objects towards which their
flames leaped out differed. That was all. Had I remained a child, since
my idea of pleasure was still that of youth? The craving far excitement,
adventure, was still unslaked; the craving far freedom as keen as ever.
During the whole of my