med. "Won't she,
Daisy? She'll look just like mammy."

"But," said Daisy, doubtfully, unconscious of the knowing gaze which
her older little sister had fixed upon uncle Rutherford's face, a gaze
which he returned with interest--"but _did_ Santa Claus bring Mrs.
Yorke all those things, Allie?"

"Yes, he did; _a_ Santa Claus did; I'm perfectly sure he did," said
Allie. "But they didn't come in her stocking, or grow on a
Christmas-tree, either, _I_ know."

"I fink he was real mean if he brought her all those, and didn't bring
her a muff and some gloves and a' umbulla, too," said Daisy.

Before the laugh, which followed, had subsided, Thomas appeared at one
entrance to announce dinner, and mammy at the other to carry off her
charges. Full of the news they had to impart to her, of Santa Claus's
supposed benefactions to Mrs. Yorke, they went more willingly than
usual.

Yes, Christmas had come and gone,--Christmas with all its sacred,
hallowed associations, its pastimes and pleasures, its loving
remembrances and family gatherings; and never had a dearer and happier
one been passed beneath our roof. No, nor one more productive of choice
and beautiful gifts from each one to each; and the little ones had
outdone themselves for the blessed and beloved holiday.

And it was an article of the family creed, both on the Livingstone and
Rutherford sides, that the good things which had been so bountifully
showered upon our pathway in life should be shared with others,
especially at this season of peace and good-will. So it was no
surprise, although it was a great relief to some of us, to learn that
Mrs. Yorke had been made presentable for the visit to the city, which
would involve some attentions on our part that might have proved
embarrassing had she appeared in her wonted holiday costume. Mother and
aunt Emily had been the two good fairies who had wrought the
transformation through the medium of a Christmas-box, which had
contained bountiful gifts for the whole Yorke family.

And now Captain and Mrs. Yorke were to come to the city on the very
next day, accompanied by the--to Jim, at least--objectionable Theodore.
Mrs. Yorke, whose crippled condition sadly interfered with her comfort
and usefulness in life, was to be placed immediately under the care of
our own family physician, who had become interested in her case during
a visit paid to us at the seashore during the previous summer; and aunt
Emily had secured a comfortable ab