d
you know you were to have a grand Christmas present, Miss Frances? You
are. It's--it's alive!"

CHAPTER XV

The time intervening before his return to help with the tree was spent
by Van Landing in a certain establishment where jewels were kept and
in telephoning Peterkin; and the orders to Peterkin were many. At four
o'clock he was back at Mother McNeil's.

In the double parlor of the old-fashioned house, once the home of
wealth and power, the tree was already in place, and around it, in
crowded confusion, were boxes and barrels, and bundles and toys, and
clothes and shoes, and articles of unknown name and purpose, and for a
moment he hesitated. Hands in his pockets, he looked first at Mother
McNeil and then at a little lame boy on the floor beside an open
trunk, out of which he was taking gaily-colored ornaments and
untangling yards of tinsel; and then he looked at Frances, who, with a
big apron over her black dress, with its soft white collar open at the
throat, was holding a pile of empty stockings in her hands.

"You are just in time, my son." Mother McNeil beamed warmly at the
uninvited visitor. "When a man can be of service, it's let him serve,
I say, and if you will get that step-ladder over there and fix this
angel on the top of the tree it will save time. Jenkins has gone for
more tinsel and more bread. We didn't intend at first to have
sandwiches and chocolate--just candy and nuts and things like
that--but it's so cold and snowy Frances thought something good and
hot would taste well. You can slice the bread, Mr. Van Landing. Four
sandwiches apiece for the boys and three for the girls are what we
allow." She looked around. "Hand him that angel, Frances, and show him
where to put it. I've got to see about the cakes."

Never having fastened an angel to the top of a tree, for a half-moment
Van Landing was uncertain how to go about it, fearing exposure of
ignorance and awkwardness; then with a quick movement he was up the
ladder and looking down at the girl who was handing him a huge paper
doll dressed in the garments supposedly worn by the dwellers of
mansions in the sky, and as he took it he laughed.

"This is a very worldly-looking angel. She apparently enjoys the
blowing of her trumpet. Stand off, will you, and see if that's right?"
Van Landing fastened the doll firmly to the top of the tree. "Does she
show well down there?"

It was perfectly natural that he should be here and helping. True,