of an oil-lamp.

The woman made a striking picture as she sat back at ease before the
fire. She was dressed in a simple black evening-dress such as a lady of
the city would wear. It covered her shoulders, but left her throat bare.
Her features, particularly her eyes, had a slight Oriental cast, which
the mass of very black hair coiled on her head accentuated. Yet she did
not look like an Oriental, nor indeed like a woman of any race of this
earth. Her cheeks were red--the delicate diffused red of perfect health.
But underneath the red there lay a curious mixture of other colours, not
only on her cheeks but particularly noticeable on her neck and arms. Her
skin was smooth as a pearl; in the mellow firelight it glowed, with the
iridescence of a shell.

The four men were dressed in the careless negligee of city men in the
country. They were talking gaily now among themselves. The woman spoke
seldom, staring dreamily into the fire.

A clock in another room struck eight; the woman glanced over to where
the child sat, absorbed with the pictures in his book. The page at which
he was looking showed a sleigh loaded with toys, with a team of
reindeers and a jolly, fat, white-bearded, red-jacketed old man driving
the sleigh over the chimney tops.

"Come Loto, little son," the woman said. "You hear--it is the time of
sleep for you."

The boy put down his book reluctantly and went over to the fireplace,
standing beside his mother with an arm about her neck.

"Oh, _mamita_ dear, will he surely come, this Santa Claus? He never knew
about me before; will he surely come?"

Lylda kissed him tenderly. "He will come, Loto, every Christmas Eve; to
you and to all the other children of this great world, will he always
come."

"But you must be asleep when he comes, Loto," one of the men admonished.

"Yes, my father, that I know," the boy answered gravely. "I will go
now."

"Come back Loto, when you have undressed," the Chemist called after him,
as he left the room. "Remember you must hang your stocking."

When they were left alone Lylda looked at her companions and smiled.

"His first Christmas," she said. "How wonderful we are going to make it
for him."

"I can remember so well," the Big Business Man remarked thoughtfully,
"when they first told me there was no Santa Claus. I cried, for I knew
Christmas would never be the same to me."

"Loto is nearly twelve years old," the Doctor said. "Just
imagine--having his first Christm