er going to grow up?"

"I trust not," said Jim comfortably--"if it means getting any bigger
than I am. But you're not, either, so it doesn't matter. Do you
remember all the Christmases at Billabong when I had to bring you your
stocking?"

"Do I remember!" echoed Norah scornfully. "But at Billabong it was
daylight at four o'clock in the morning, and extremely hot--probably
with a bush-fire or two thrown in. You'll be frozen to death here.
Turn on the electric stove, and we'll be comfy."

"That's a brain-wave," said Jim, complying. "I must admit I prefer an
open fireplace and three-foot logs--but in a hurry those little
contraptions of stoves are handy. Hold on now--I'll get you something
to put over your shoulders."

"There's a woolly jacket over there," Norah said. "Let me have my
property--I'm excited." She possessed herself of the stocking and
fished for its contents. "Chocolates!--and in war-time! Aren't you
ashamed?"

"Not much," said Jim calmly, extracting a huge chocolate from the box.
"I lived on swede turnips for six weeks, so I think the family
deserves a few extras. Fish some more."

Norah obeyed, and brought to light articles of a varied nature; a pair
of silk stockings, a book on _Housekeeping as a Science_, a large
turnip, artistically carved, a box of French candied fruit, a mob-cap
and a pair of housemaids' gloves, and, lastly, the cap of a shell,
neatly made into a pin-tray.

"I did that in camp in Germany," said Jim. "And I swore I'd put it
into your Christmas stocking. Which I have done."

"Bless you," said Norah. "I would rather lose a good many of my
possessions than that." They smiled at each other; and, being an
undemonstrative pair, the smile was a caress.

"Isn't this going to be a Christmas!" Norah said. "I've been lying
awake for ever so long, trying to realize it. You alive again----"

"I never was dead," said Jim indignantly.

"It was a horribly good imitation. And Wally here, and even Harry;
and Major Hunt home; and Geoff getting stronger every day. And Dad
grown twenty years younger."

"And you too, I guess--judging by what you looked like the night I
came home."

"Oh, I've got turned and made up to look like new," said Norah. She
faltered a little. "Jimmy, I've been saying my prayers--_hard_."

"I've done that, too," said Jim. There was a long, contented silence.

"And somehow, now, I know you'll be all right--both of you," Norah
said. "I just fee