Aunt Betsey sends me fifty dollars, you won't catch me spending it
on finery," she informed her family. "I have other things to do with
_my_ money."

She did not know how truly she spoke, nor what would be the result of
her manner of spending Aunt Betsey's present.

The fall slipped quickly by, and the Christmas holidays drew near. Neal
was coming to Oakleigh, and many things were planned for the
entertainment of the young people.

Cynthia went about fairly bursting with excitement and secrets. This was
her best-loved time of the whole year, and she was making the most of
it.

The 25th of December fell on a Wednesday this year, and Neal came down
from St. Asaph's on Monday, to be in good season for the festivities of
Christmas Eve. Plenty of snow had fallen, and all kinds of jolly times
were looked for.

Outside the scene was wintry indeed, and the white walls of Oakleigh
looked cold and dreary in the sitting of snow which lay so thickly over
river, meadow, and hill, but in the house there was plenty of life and
cheery warmth. Great fires burned briskly in all the chimneys, and the
rooms were bright and cozy with warm-looking carpets and curtains and
comfortable furniture. There had been a good deal done to the house,
both outside and in, since the coming of Mrs. Franklin. Edith still
maintained to herself that she did not like it, but every one else
thought matters vastly improved.

"Hurray! hurray!" cried Jack, rushing into the house on Tuesday and
slamming down his books; "good-by to school for ten days! It was a mean
shame that we had to have school at all this week. Neal, you were in
luck. St. Asaph's must be mighty good fun, anyhow. By-the-way,"
continued he, holding his chilled hands to the fire, "I saw that Bronson
fellow in town to-day--the one that smashed your canoe."

"You did?" said Neal, glancing up from his book, while Cynthia gave an
exclamation of disgust.

"Yes," said Jack, "and he said the Morgans had asked him out here for
the holidays, so I guess we are in for another dose. It strikes me they
must be pretty hard up for company to want him."

Neal said nothing. Edith looked up from her work and watched him
sharply, but his face told little.

"Hateful thing!" exclaimed Cynthia. "I would like to pack my trunk and
take a train out of Brenton as he comes in on another."

"I can't see why you all dislike him so," observed Edith. "You detest
him, don't you, Neal?"

"Oh, Edith, do hush!" cri