with it a huge pasteboard box.
Something told Jerry, before she opened the envelope, what her mother
had written. Her lips quivered.

"...It will be hard for us both, dear child, not to be together on
Christmas, but it seems unwise for you to go to the trouble and expense
of coming home for such a short stay. We are snowed in and you would not
have the relaxation that you need after your long weeks of study. Then,
darling, it would be all the harder to let you go again. I want you to
have the jolliest sort of a holiday and I shall be happy thinking each
day what my little girl is doing. I have had such nice letters from Mrs.
Westley and Mr. John telling all about you--they have been a great
comfort to me. We are sending the box with a breath of Kettle in it. The
bitter-sweet we have been saving for you since last fall...."

When Jerry opened the box the room filled with the fragrant odor of
pine. In an ecstasy she leaned her face close to the branches and
sniffed delightedly; she wanted to cry and she wanted to laugh--it was
as though she suddenly had a bit of home right there with her. Her
disappointment was forgotten. She lifted out the pine and bitter-sweet
to put it in every corner of her room, then another thought seized her.
Except for Gyp, practicing in a half-hearted way downstairs, the house
was empty. On tiptoe she stole to the different rooms, leaving in each a
bit of her pine and a gay cluster of the bitter-sweet.

The postman's ring brought Gyp's practice, with one awful discord, to an
abrupt finish. In a moment she came bounding up the stairs, two little
white envelopes in her hand.

"Jerry--we're invited to a real party--Pat Everett's." She tossed one of
the small squares into Jerry's lap. "Hope to die invitations, just like
Isobel gets!"

Jerry stared at the bit of pasteboard. Gyp's delight was principally
because it was the first "real" evening party to which she had been
invited; it was a milestone in her life--it meant that she was very
grown-up.

"Jerauld Travis--you don't act a _bit_ excited! It will be heaps of fun
for Pat's father and mother are the jolliest people--and there'll be
dancing and boys--and spliffy eats."

"I never went to a party--like _that_." Jerry, with something like awe,
lifted the card.

"Oh, a party's a party, anywhere," declared Gyp loftily, speaking from
the wisdom of her newly-acquired dignity.

"And--I haven't anything to wear," added Jerry, putting the card dow