first dine with her quietly,
and have an early tea, then come home; we are generally back by six
o'clock, and have a long evening by ourselves. Do you spend Christmas
Day quite alone, Mr. Gaythorne?"

"Yes, quite alone," he returned, gloomily; "but I have plenty of ghosts
to visit me," and his face twitched, and he stooped over the pictures
as he spoke.

CHAPTER VIII.

"'TIS A LOVE TOKEN, I RECKON."

"It is in men as in soils--where sometimes there is a vein of gold
which the owner knows not of."--_Dean Swift_.

"Marcus, I have an idea."

Olivia had been sitting for some time in a brown study, staring into
the red caverns, where the yellow fire-elves were beating out their
rainbow gold on their glowing, hissing anvils.

It was in the gloaming, and the little sitting-room was warm and cosy.
Dot was on her mother's lap, toasting her pink toes gleefully, and
chuckling over them in baby fashion. And Marcus, who had finished his
day's work, had left off trying to read by the light of the flickering
flame, and was indulging in a furtive doze. He roused up when Olivia's
clear voice broke the silence.

"Marcus, do you hear me? I have such a nice plan."

"Is it a riddle?" he returned, lazily. "I give it up." Then he
contemplated his small daughter with much satisfaction. "I wonder none
of you advanced women have ever turned your attention to
baby-language," he observed presently; "we are studying the
ape-vocabulary, you know. Dot has got quite a little language of her
own. As far as I can make out each sentence is finished off with a
'gurgle-doe.' Something between the 'gobble, gobble' of a turkey and
the coo of the ring-dove. I suppose it all means something."

"Means something!" and Olivia kissed the little rings of curly hair
with passionate fondness. "Of course my girlie means something! I
understand her as well as possible. She is scolding the fire, because
it has burnt her dear little toes. Look, she is showing them to me.
Naughty fire, to burn my baby." And thereupon followed one of those
maternal and infantine duets, which appear such hopeless jargon to the
masculine mind.

To Marcus it had a lulling effect, his eyes began to blink drowsily
again, but Olivia, who had passed a solitary day, was not disposed for
silence.

"You are not a bit curious about my plan, dear," she said presently.
"I have been thinking so much of that sad, sad speech of Mr.
Gaythorne's yesterday. I cannot