l see. _I_ sha'n't forget;
_I_ sha'n't break _my_ promise, you'll see,--you'll see, Lula. On
Christmas eve I shall send you a Christmas present, sure,--now
remember!" answered Molly, vehemently.

CHAPTER II.

It was the day before Christmas,--a beautiful, mild day, very unlike the
usual winter weather in the far West. At the Ellistons' windows hung
wreaths of pine, and all about on tables and chairs tempting-looking
packages were lying. Some of these were from their military friends, and
most of them were directed to "Major Molly," the name that had been
given to Molly when she was a little tot of a thing, and the pet of the
fort where she lived. On this Christmas day, as she watched her mother
fold up the pretty bright tartan dress that was to be her Christmas
present to Wallula, she said gleefully,--

"Don't forget, mamma, to write on the box, 'Wallula's Christmas present
from Major Molly.'"

It had been Molly's intention to have Wallula to tea on Christmas eve,
and then and there to bestow upon her the pretty gift. But invitations
to dine at the fort had frustrated this plan, and so it was arranged
that Barney McGuire, one of the ranchmen, should come up and carry the
box over to the reservation late that afternoon; and as the short winter
day progressed, and Molly found that she must have a little more time to
finish off the table-cover she wanted to take up to the Colonel's wife,
she said to her mother,--

"Instead of going on with you and papa at five o'clock, let Barney
escort me to the fort after he leaves Wallula's present; that will give
me plenty of time to finish the cover, and plenty of time to get to the
dinner in season."

"Very well," answered Mrs. Elliston; "but you must promise me to start
with Barney as soon as he comes back for you, whether the cover is
finished or not. You mustn't be late."

At five o'clock, when Captain Elliston and his wife rode off, Molly was
working away at her cover with the greatest industry. Now and then, as
she worked on, she glanced up at the clock. If everything went
smoothly,--if the silk didn't knot or the lace didn't pucker,--she would
be through long before Barney came back for her. But presently she
thought, where _was_ Barney. He ought to be there for the box by this
time. She worked on a little longer, her ear alert for the sound of
Barney's horse. At last she went to an upper window and looked out. She
could see, even in the gathering dusk, a great