.

He returned with a bundle of clothing which he proceeded to arrange in
the garden. He first donned his own red dressing gown and then wound a
white scarf round his head, tying it under his chin so that the ends
hung down.

"I'm makin' believe I'm Father Christmas," he deigned to explain. "An'
I'm makin' believe this white stuff is hair an' beard. An' this is for
you to wear so's you won't get cold."

He held out a little white satin cloak edged with swansdown.

"Oh, how _lovely_, William! But it's not my cloak! It's Sadie
Murford's!"

"Never mind! you can wear it," said William generously.

Then, taking the handles of the cart, he set off down the drive. From
the drawing-room came the sound of a chorus of delight as the conjurer
produced a goldfish in a glass bowl from his head. From the kitchen
came the sound of the hilarious laughter of the maids. Only in the
dining-room, with its horrible expanse of empty table, was silence.

They walked down the road without speaking till Joan gave a little
excited laugh.

"This is _fun_, William! I do wonder what we're going to do."

"You'll see," said William. "I'd better not tell you yet. I promised a
crorse-me-throat promise I wouldn't tell anyone."

"All right, William," she said sweetly. "I don't mind a bit."

The evening was dark and rather foggy, so that the strange couple
attracted little attention, except when passing beneath the street
lamps. Then certainly people stood still and looked at William and his
cart in open-mouthed amazement.

At last they turned down a back street towards a door that stood open
to the dark, foggy night. Inside the room was a bare table at which
sat a little girl, her blue, anxious eyes fixed on the open door.

"I hope he gets here before Dad," she said. "I wouldn't like Dad to
come and find it not ready!"

The woman on the bed closed her eyes wearily.

"I don't think he'll come now, dearie. We must just get on without
it."

The little girl sprang up, her pale cheek suddenly flushed.

"Oh, _listen_!" she cried; "_something's_ coming!"

They listened in breathless silence, while the sound of wheels came
down the street towards the empty door. Then--an old hand-cart
appeared in the doorway and behind it William in his strange attire,
and Joan in her fairy-like white--white cloak, white dress, white
socks and shoes--her bright curls clustered with gleaming fog jewels.

The little girl clasped her hands. Her face broke in