o you."

CHAPTER XXVII. THE MOTHER--THE WIFE

Bertram made up his mind at once that, for the present, at least,
he would tell no one what the surgeon had said to him. He had placed
himself under the man's care, and there was nothing to do but to take
the prescribed treatment and await results as patiently as he could.
Meanwhile there was no need to worry Billy, or William, or anybody else
with the matter.

Billy was so busy with her holiday plans that she was only vaguely aware
of what seemed to be an increase of restlessness on the part of her
husband during those days just before Christmas.

"Poor dear, is the arm feeling horrid to-day?" she asked one morning,
when the gloom on her husband's face was deeper than usual.

Bertram frowned and did not answer directly.

"Lots of good I am these days!" he exclaimed, his moody eyes on the
armful of many-shaped, many-sized packages she carried. "What are those
for-the tree?"

"Yes; and it's going to be so pretty, Bertram," exulted Billy. "And, do
you know, Baby positively acts as if he suspected things--little as he
is," she went on eagerly. "He's as nervous as a witch. I can't keep him
still a minute!"

"How about his mother?" hinted Bertram, with a faint smile.

Billy laughed.

"Well, I'm afraid she isn't exactly calm herself," she confessed, as she
hurried out of the room with her parcels.

Bertram looked after her longingly, despondently.

"I wonder what she'd say if she--knew," he muttered. "But she sha'n't
know--till she just has to," he vowed suddenly, under his breath,
striding into the hall for his hat and coat.

Never had the Strata known such a Christmas as this was planned to be.
Cyril, Marie, and the twins were to be there, also Kate, her husband
and three children, Paul, Egbert, and little Kate, from the West. On
Christmas Day there was to be a big family dinner, with Aunt Hannah down
from the Annex. Then, in concession to the extreme youth of the young
host and his twin cousins, there was to be an afternoon tree. The shades
were to be drawn and the candles lighted, however, so that there might
be no loss of effect. In the evening the tree was to be once more loaded
with fascinating packages and candy-bags, and this time the Greggorys,
Tommy Dunn, and all the rest from the Annex were to have the fun all
over again.

From garret to basement the Strata was aflame with holly, and aglitter
with tinsel. Nowhere did there seem to be a spot th