Benton, I wish everybody was as sincere a Christian as you
are."

In her surprise, Aunt Sally tipped her rocker so far back that she
just escaped upset.

"Why, Gabriella Trent! Me! Me! Don't say that, and make me feel
meaner'n dirt. It's you, honey, is that----"

Mrs. Trent laughed as she answered:

"We make a mutual admiration society, don't we? But Aunt Sally, you
mustn't think of leaving Sobrante before the holidays are past. I
can't spare you. I need the help of your head, as well as your hands,
and what would Christmas be to the children, if you weren't here to
cuddle and scold them after their greediness has made them ill."

"Well, well, child, say no more. Here I am, and here I'll stay, if
Sarah Ma'sh don't get a stiver of pudding or fowl. Here, honey, I
reckon you best slice this citron. You've got a dainty hand for such
work and--my sake's alive! That fruit cake'd ought to been made weeks
ago, if it was to get any sort of ripeness into it before it was et!
Hurry up, do. We haven't a minute to waste."

This adjuration had the good result of amusing Mrs. Trent so that, for
an hour at least, she forgot to be anxious over her daughter's
unexplained absence. Aunt Sally was a person who was always "driven to
death" by the mere thought of tasks for which there was, in reality,
ample time. But now that she had decided to remain at the ranch for a
further indefinite stay, her spirits rose and her brain busied itself
with a thousand plans for the comfort or amusement of the household,
over which she domineered, yet so ardently loved.

"We haven't got much money for presents, I know. So I'll just get out
the piece-bag to-night, and press off them canton flannel scraps.
They'll make splended ducks for the youngsters----"

"I fear that would be wasted labor, friend. The little lads have
outgrown homemade toys. Nothin that will not make a noise is
acceptable to them. I'd thought of sending over to Marion for drums
and whistles, if the stores there can furnish them."

"Well, Gabriella Trent! I declare you are the benightenest woman that
ever set out to raise children! Drums! For them two? My, my! But what
won't a mother do for her little ones, I'd like to know!"

The words were no sooner out of Mrs. Benton's mouth than she regretted
them. At the name of "mother" Mrs. Trent's forced gayety vanished, and
she lifted her eyes to her companion's face with a pitiful appeal.

"Aunt Sally, what has happened to Jessica?"