man," she asked; "the one in the next room to mine, up
attic? Is he a new boarder? He must have come awful late. I heard you
and him talkin' in the middle of the night. Who is he?"

When told the story of Jedediah's return she was greatly excited.

"Why, it's just like somethin' in a story!" she cried. "Long-lost folks
are always comin' back in stories. And comin' Christmas Eve makes it all
the better. Lordy--There, I ain't said that for weeks and weeks! Excuse
me, Mrs. Thankful. I WON'T say it again. But--but what are we goin' to
do with him? Is he goin' to stay here for good?"

Thankful answered that she supposed he was, he had no other place to
stay.

"Is he rich? He ought to be. Folks in stories always come home rich
after they've run off."

"Well, this one didn't. He missed connections, somehow. Rich! No,"
drily, "he ain't rich."

"Well, what will he do? Will we have to take care of him--free, I mean?
Excuse me for buttin' in, ma'am, but it does seem as if we had enough on
our hands without takin' another free boarder."

Thankful went into the dining-room. Emily, when the question was
repeated to her, suggested that, possibly, Jedediah might work about
the place, take care of the live-stock and of the garden, when there was
one.

Imogene reflected. "Hum!" she mused. "We don't need two hired hands,
that's a sure thing. You mean he'll take Kenelm's job?"

"That isn't settled, so you mustn't speak of it. I know my cousin will
be very sorry to let Kenelm go, largely on your account, Imogene."

"On my account?"

"Why, yes. You and he are engaged to be married and of course you like
to have him here."

Imogene burst out laughing. "Don't you worry about that, Miss Emily,"
she said. "I shan't, and I don't think Kenelm will, either."

Breakfast was ready at last and they were just sitting down to the
table--it had been decided not to call Jedediah or Mr. Cobb--when
Georgie appeared. The boy had crept downstairs, his small head filled
with forebodings; but the sight of the knobby stocking and the heap of
presents sent his fears flying and he burst into the room with a
shriek of joy. One by one the packages were unwrapped and, with each
unwrapping, the youngster's excitement rose.

"Gee!" he cried, as he sat in the middle of the heap of toys and
brown paper and looked about him. "Gee! They're all here; everything I
wanted--but that air-gun. I don't care, though. Maybe I'll get that next
Christmas. Or maybe C