evidently, a day
the advantage of them. On the contrary, he was the youngest of the four,
as he walked round and round the Christmas Tree, poking among the
branches, readjusting a string of pop-corn here, or a glittering
ornament there. It was their own tree, every twig, every needle of it
their own. Not Hildegarde herself, nor her mother, nor any Merryweather,
had had a word to say, or knew a single detail about it. They were
invited,--they were coming; that was their part; all the rest had
belonged to the four boys. Had they not gone in town together, and gone
to Schwartz's, and bought out the greater part of the shop? And had they
not spent the greater part of the day (save dinner-time, and
church-time, and the hour that Jack had taken for tobogganing) in
decorating their plaything, and tying on the presents? Surely, such a
tree had never been seen! It glittered from top to toe with icicles; it
shone with globes of gold and silver; it was powdered with diamond snow,
and hung with golden nuts; silver cobwebs draped it, hanging in long
festoons from every bough, while round and round, in graceful festoons,
went the long garlands of snowy pop-corn. Now nothing was left to do,
save to light the candles; and still the Colonel walked and looked,
puffing with pleasure, and still Brother Raymond followed at his heels,
and Jack followed Raymond, and Hugh kept close behind Jack. And
Elizabeth Beadle, surveying this scene from the depth of the hall, was
so moved by it that she retired to the kitchen and wept for a quarter of
an hour, for pure joy.

"Sure you have the pail of water handy, Jack?"

"Yes, sir, quite sure! Stepped into it just now."

"Then you had it footy, not handy!" murmured Hugh. His guardian turned,
and looked anxiously at the boy.

"Hum, ha!" he said. "Talk a little nonsense, eh, Young Sir? That's
right! Feel quite well this evening, hey?"

Hugh certainly did not look well. His rosy color was gone, and there
were dark circles under his blue eyes; but he answered so brightly, and
was so full of joy and delightful anticipation, that Colonel Ferrers
smiled even as he sighed, and turned to his brother.

"Pretty sight, Raymond?" he said, for perhaps the twentieth time.
"Pretty custom, eh? Give you my word, sir, I haven't enjoyed anything so
much for years."

"If you go on at this rate, Tom," rejoined his brother, "you will be in
short jackets again in a year or two. After all, what is there in the
world s