from window to
window at some time during the day.

It was Christmas morning. Ethel awoke very early, as all properly
organized children do on that day at least. She had a beautiful room in
which she slept alone. Adjacent to it, in another room almost as
beautiful, slept Celeste, her mamma's French maid. Ethel had been
exquisitely trained. She lay awake a long time before making a sound or
movement, wishing it were time to arise. But Christmas was strong upon
her, the infection of the season was in her blood. Presently she slipped
softly out of bed, pattered across the room, paused at the door which
gave entrance to the hall which led to her mother's apartments, then
turned and plumped down upon Celeste.

"Merry Christmas," she cried shaking the maid.

To awaken Celeste was a task of some difficulty. Ordinarily the French
woman would have been indignant at being thus summarily routed out
before the appointed hour but something of the spirit of Christmas had
touched her as well. She answered the salutation of the little girl
kindly enough, but as she sat up in bed she lifted a reproving finger.

"But," she said, "you mus' keep ze silence, Mademoiselle Ethel. Madame,
votre maman, she say she mus' not be disturb' in ze morning. She haf
been out ver' late in ze night and she haf go to ze bed ver' early. She
say you mus' be ver' quiet on ze Matin de Noel!"

"I will be quiet, Celeste," answered the little girl, her lip quivering
at the injunction.

It was so hard to be repressed all the time but especially on Christmas
Day of all others.

"Zen I will help you to dress immediatement, and zen Villiam, he vill
call us to see ze tree."

Never had the captious little girl been more docile, more obedient.
Dressing Ethel that morning was a pleasure to Celeste. Scarcely had she
completed the task and put on her own clothing when there was a tap on
the door.

"Vat is it?"

"Mornin', Miss Celeste," spoke a heavy voice outside, a voice subdued to
a decorous softness of tone, "if you an' Miss Ethel are ready, the tree
is lit, an'--"

"Ve air ready, Monsieur Villiam," answered Celeste, throwing open the
door dramatically.

Ethel opened her mouth to welcome the butler--for if that solemn and
portentous individual ever unbent it was to Miss Ethel, whom in his
heart of hearts he adored--but he placed a warning finger to his lip
and whispered in an awestruck voice:

"The master, your father, came in late last night, Miss, an