h day is Mercy's birthday, and, though they keep it on the
one when she was found, it might perhaps be to-day, and I couldn't
bear to think that I've had all these lovely presents and she should
have got nothing at all."

CHAPTER XI

The Christmas Holidays

"Stir-up Sunday" seemed to come almost directly after Sylvia's
birthday, and the girls began to count the weeks eagerly until the
holidays. There were many ingenious devices for marking the passage of
time. Hazel Prestbury cut notches on her ruler, Connie Camden put
twenty-two stones on her mantelpiece and threw one out of the window
every morning, and Nina Forster scored the calendar hanging in her
bedroom each evening with a very black lead pencil.

"I live only ten miles away," said Linda, "so I haven't a long
journey, have I? The first term I used to go home for weekends, but
Miss Kaye said it unsettled me, and she asked Mother to let me stay at
school like the other girls. I don't mind it now; it's rather nice
here on Saturdays and Sundays."

There still seemed a good deal to be done before the end of the term
arrived. All the girls had been working in the evenings at dressing
dolls and making other presents for a Christmas tree that was to be
given to the poor children attending a ragged school at Aberglyn. They
liked the employment, especially as Miss Kaye would come sometimes and
read aloud to them while they sewed.

"And there isn't anybody in the world who can read so beautifully as
Miss Kaye," said Linda.

"When I was at Mrs. Harper's school," said Hazel, "we were helped to
make Christmas presents to take home, instead of doing things for
ragged schools. I worked a most lovely afternoon-tea cloth; Mother's
quite proud of it still. I wish we did that here."

"I don't," said Marian. "I suppose you only like doing things for
yourself."

"It wasn't for myself. It was for my mother. How nasty you always are,
Marian!"

"It was for home, at any rate," retorted Marian. "Miss Kaye says we
can be quite as selfish for our families as for ourselves, and we
ought to remember outside people at Christmas, who don't get any
presents, and who won't give us nice things back."

"Well, really!" said Hazel; "do you mean to tell me I'm not to make
presents for my mother and my aunts?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort. You can give those too, but Miss
Kaye said they oughtn't to be the only ones. Even heathens are fond of
their own families, and it's n