tter, of course," Hope said. "We always have Susan and
James come in to look on, and even Mulvaney has his new ribbon and a
bone. He has learned to know the basket, and he lies down beside it as
soon as it is brought in to be filled."

"When do you do it?"

"Christmas eve," Hubert answered. "We never could stand it till
Christmas day. We always rush through supper, Christmas eve, to be ready
as soon as we can. You should see our house when we get everything out
of the basket."

"I wish I could."

"What do you do?" Phebe demanded.

"Why, we give presents at breakfast; that's all. Of course it will be
different, this year. Papa was here, last Christmas. He gave me my watch
then."

"Oh!" Phebe became round-eyed with admiration. "Did he give you that? I
should think you would miss him."

Hope came to the rescue.

"It will be lonely, this year. I remember how it was, after mamma died.
We didn't want to have any Christmas; but papa said she would rather we
kept up the old ways, so we did just as we always had done."

"I wish we did things the way you do." Billy pushed his hair impatiently
away from his face. "You don't know how it seems to a fellow to be
alone. It is no sort of fun."

"Adopt us," Theodora suggested, laughing.

Billy flashed at her a swift glance which told, plainly as words, how
gladly he would carry out her suggestion.

Passing through the hall, Mrs. McAlister had heard the children's talk.
A little later, she knocked at the door of her husband's office. The
doctor pushed aside the sheets of the essay he was writing for a medical
journal, and rose to greet his wife.

"Well, Bess, the sanctum is glad to see you."

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, as she sat down by the table.

"Not a bit. You never do."

"So glad, for I want to talk, Jack."

"What now? Is Phebe in mischief, or is Teddy proving obstreperous?"

"Neither; it's only this." And she repeated the substance of the
children's conversation. "Now are you ready to do some missionary work,
Jack?"

"Of course; anything you like. What is it?"

"May Jessie and Will come to your Christmas eve?"

"Ours," he corrected gently.

"No, yours. You know I've never been here for it, and it is all new to
me. I don't want to crowd your good time; but the boy is so lonely."

"Have him, of course. The Savins is large enough to hold a few more, and
he needs all the fun he can get," the doctor said heartily. "There's
only one thing I am afraid