ry of the idea. Gently, reverently, the girls lifted the basket
which was to have furnished their own repast, laid it on the carved-oak
chair, and laid on its lid the painted card; then for a moment they
stood side by side, gazing round the room, seeing in imagination the
scene which would follow the return of the family from church . . . the
incredulity, the amaze, the blind mystification, the joy. . . . Peg beamed
in anticipation of the delight of the youngsters; Margaret had the
strangest, eeriest feeling of looking straight into a sweet, worn face;
of feeling the clasp of work-worn hands. It was imagination, she told
herself, simple imagination, yet the face was alive. . . . Its features
seemed more distinct than many which she knew in the flesh. She shivered
slightly, and drew her sister from the room.

"Now, Peg, to cover up our tracks; to leave everything as we found it!
This door was shut. . . . Have we moved anything from its place, left
any footmarks on the floor? Be careful, dear, be careful! . . . Push
that chair into place. . . ."

* * * * *

The tyre was repaired. The chauffeur was straightening his back after
the long stoop. Jack and Tom were indignantly demanding what had been
done with the hamper. Being hungry and unromantic, it took some little
time to convince them that there had been no choice in the matter, and
that the large family had a right to their luxuries which was not to be
gainsaid. They had not seen the pitiful emptiness of the Christmas
table; they had not seen the chair set ready for the Christ Child. The
girls realised as much and dealt gently with them, and in the outcome no
one felt the poorer; for the welcome bestowed upon the surprise party
was untinged by any shadow of embarrassment, and they sat around a
festal board, happy to feel that their presence was hailed as the
culminating joy of the day.

* * * * *

It was evening when the car again approached the lonely house, and
Margaret, speaking down the connecting tube, directed the chauffeur to
drive at his slowest speed for the next quarter of a mile.

Jack was lying back in his corner, absorbed in happy dreams. Never so
long as he lived could he forget this Christmas Day, which had seen the
fulfilment of his hopes in Myra's sweetness, Myra's troth. Tom was fast
asleep, dreaming of "dorm." suppers, and other escapades of the last
term. The two sisters were as much