box of dominoes, an embroidered
handkerchief, a box of chocolate creams. And Martha gave Honey-Sweet
pink-flowered muslin for a new dress.

Breakfast passed in wild confusion. Martha was imploring Dunlop not to
eat any more candy or raisins or oranges or figs or nuts. "You'll be
sick," she said. "And goodness knows, Master Dunlop, you're hard enough
to live with best of times when you're well. Do--don't blow your horn,
Master Dunlop--or beat your drum--or toot your engine--your poor mamma
has such a headache."

Mrs. Marshall protested, however, that the dear child must be allowed to
enjoy his Christmas. "He is so high-strung," she said, "not like
ordinary children. He can't be controlled like them. I can't bear to
cross him and break his spirit."

CHAPTER XVIII

Before the early dinner at the 'Home,' Miss Farlow assembled the girls
and gave them a Christmas talk. Christmas, she reminded them, is the
time for generous thoughts, for kindly memories, for opening our eyes to
the needs of others and opening our hands to aid those needs. There is
no one so poor, so lonely, that he cannot find some one more needy that
he may help.

"Kind friends have remembered you this holiday season," she said. "Each
of you has received gifts. Now I hope you want to pass the kindness on.
There is a negro orphanage in town, and I happen to know that its funds
are so limited that after providing needfuls, food, fuel, and clothing,
there is nothing left this year for Christmas cheer. Aren't you willing
to share your good things with those poor children? Won't each of you
bring some of your old toys to the sitting-room at four o'clock and help
fill a Christmas box to send the little orphans?"

The children responded eagerly, Anne among the first. They hurried to
their rooms and rummaged busily through their boxes and drawers,
collecting old dolls, ragged picture-books, and broken toys.

Anne opened her drawer and then shut it quickly and sat down dolefully
on the bed-side, swinging her feet.

"What are you going to give, Anne?" asked one of the other girls.

"Dunno," was the brief answer.

A mighty struggle was going on in her heart. She had no old picture-books,
games, nor toys. She had nothing to give--unless--except--there were the
gifts she had received at 'Roseland' this morning--the shining dominoes,
the dainty handkerchief, the ribbon-tied candy box, the book with
fascinating pictures and pages that looked so interesti