.

"How splendid it looks in the snow, doesn't it?" Mrs. Farwell asked.
"My, I shall be glad to see an open fire-place. I hope Sarah has started
a fire in the drawing-room. Just put the bags in the hall, Tim," she
added, to the old coachman who was busy unloading the back of the
sleigh. He nodded respectfully.

"Where's Sandy?" Polly demanded, "I thought he'd be here to meet me,
surely."

Tim shook his head. "He's gettin' old, Miss Polly," he said. "And he
spends most of his time lying before the fire."

Sandy was Polly's beautiful big collie. She found him as Tim had said, a
few minutes later, after Sarah had opened the door for them and ushered
them in with a hearty welcome. He was lying on the hearth rug in the
library. And as he heard Polly tip-toe in, he got up stiffly and held
out his paw.

"Darling old fellow," Polly said, dropping to her knees beside him, and
patting his silky head.

Sandy licked her hand affectionately and made as great a fuss about her,
as his rheumatic old joints would permit. Then Lois claimed her and
together they roamed over the house, enjoying the spacious rooms and
reveling in the blazing wood fires.

Bob and Jim arrived the next day with Dr. Farwell and Uncle Roddy. The
sleigh was not large enough for Polly and Lois to go and meet them. So,
to make up for it, Bob and Polly hitched Banker, the pony, to the
cutter, later in the afternoon, and drove out into the woods in search
of a Christmas tree.

"Get a nice bushy one," Lois called after them, as they drove off. "And
don't get lost."

Bob tucked the rug around Polly's feet. "We won't," he called back.
"Which direction?" he inquired.

"Down the hill and take the first turn to the right," Polly told him.
"Jemima! but it's cold." And she snuggled down in her furs. "I can't
believe this is Christmas Eve."

"Neither can I," Bob said. "What's this I hear about you and Lois going
to visit some one for New Year's?"

"We're going to Fanny Gerard's," Polly answered. "Won't it be fun? She
lives in South Carolina. We're going specially for her New Year's dance.
It's the event of the season--and I'm so excited. I was afraid when the
letter came, Aunt Kate wouldn't let us go--their being strangers--and
it's so far, but it seems your darling father knew all about old Mr.
Gerard and his sister, so it was all right, and we leave December
thirtieth--taking with us our very best clothes," she added, smiling.

There was something like dis