break up this pleasant party, but I am afraid I must,"
Aunt Zelie said, coming in.

"Why, Auntie?" asked Louise, looking up with three little wrinkles
between her eyes, for the stylish bow would not be quite as she wanted
it.

"Because I am in danger of losing my roses," answered her aunt,
pinching Bess's cheek. "Yesterday they had no fresh air worth
mentioning."

"Oh, please don't make us go!" cried Bess in a tone that was almost a
wail. "We have so much to do!"

"I must finish my bow," Louise said positively.

"I shall not _make_ you, but Joanna is going to Aunt Marcia's with a
note, and I want you to go too because you need the air. I am sure
Dora will take the walk with you, and on the way back suppose you stop
and ask Mrs. Warner to let her stay to dinner. So fly now and get
ready." She spoke so energetically that Dora began at once to roll up
her work, and Bess dropped her scissors with a sigh of relief, but
Louise held on to her bow desperately.

"I _will_ finish it," she said to herself.

"Louise," her aunt said gently, "the reason you cannot make the bow to
please you is because you are tired. Now, which will you do, put it
away till to-morrow--when I am sure you will not have any trouble with
it--and go to walk with the others, or stay here and grow more and
more tired and cross, till you are not fit to come to dinner with the
rest of us?"

She had a struggle with herself before she answered in a choked voice,
"I guess I'll go, but I did want to finish it."

"Of course, but you will be glad by and by that you chose to do what
was right, instead of what you wanted to do," and Aunt Zelie sent her
off with a kiss.

The walk to Aunt Marcia's was not such a hardship after all, and when
they reached home there was at least an hour for studying lessons
before dinner, and that was followed by a grand frolic with Carie,
lasting till it was time for Dora to go.

"I am sorry I was cross this afternoon," Louise said when she came for
her good-night kiss.

"It was because you were tired, dear, I know. You and Bess must take
care not to be too much occupied with Christmas. It will not do to
neglect every-day duties even for that," replied her aunt.

CHAPTER XII.

CEDAR AND HOLLY.

One Saturday afternoon, about three weeks before Christmas, the boys
marched triumphantly into Miss Brown's sitting-room with a large
tissue-paper parcel. When this was undone, before the eager eyes of
the M.Ks., ther