m duty, while she hurriedly dressed.

Naturally, she had to submit to some teasing on account of her valiant
resolution of the previous night that she "wouldn't wink a wink," but
Mrs. Trent was delighted that the faithful woman had, at last, enjoyed
a needed rest. Besides, everything was bright at the ranch on that
happy morning. Even Wun Lung had caught the infection of Christmas
preparations, and was intent upon providing some dainties of his own,
against the approaching festival, which should so far outshine the
homelier pies and puddings of Mrs. Benton, as his own revered country
outshone, in his opinion, even this pleasant one in which, at present,
his lot was cast. He had also felt good-natured enough to put aside a
plentiful breakfast for his mate--or foe--of the kitchen; and since it
was such a time of happiness, Aunt Sally condescended not only to eat
it, but to pronounce it "good."

Hearing this unexpected praise, the Chinaman wound and unwound his
precious queue, after a fashion he had of expressing satisfaction; and
smilingly advised Mrs. Benton to "step black polch," where she would
find things to do.

So to the back porch the good lady retreated, carrying with her great
dishes of fruit to prepare, and not forgetting two enormous slices of
the rich plum cake she had promised the little boys, and which would
have made less active, hardily reared children ill.

Mrs. Trent had moved her sewing machine to the porch, and Jessica sat
near, with a little table before her, trying to write the Christmas
invitations that had been so delayed, and to express them after a
style which should not too painfully expose her own ignorance. The
result was not so bad, considering the slight training the child had
had, and her few years, yet it did not satisfy the mother, who felt
that education was the one good thing, and who longed to have her
child's bright intellect developed as it should be.

Poor Jessica had written and rewritten the note intended for Mr. Hale
a number of times, and still had it returned to her with many
corrections, after Mrs. Trent's reading of it, and now laid it aside
with a sigh of discouragement.

"Can't that wait a while, mother? If I may write to my darling Ninian
Sharp, I'll get myself rested. He doesn't mind trifles like wrong
capitals in the right places--oh! dear, I mean--I don't know what I
mean. But may I?"

"Certainly, dear. Though, first, come here and let me try the length
of this