ch.

"I'll come, grandmother," he said with some elation, as if he alone had
been asked. And as he tore off the blinder he put his head down close to
Doris, and whispered:

"It was mean of you to hide behind grandfather every time, and he didn't
play fair a bit."

But having a peep at the red shoes as they went dancing round was fair
enough!

Hollis Leverett sang in the choir. They had come to this innovation,
though they drew the line at instrumental music. He had a really fine
tenor voice. Mr. Leverett sang in a sort of natural, untrained tone,
very sweet. Mrs. Hollis couldn't sing at all, but she was very proud to
have the children take after their father. There were times when Aunt
Priscilla sang for herself, but her voice had grown rather quivering and
uncertain. So Betty and her mother had to do their best to keep from
being drowned out. But the old hymns were touching, with here and there
a line of rare sweetness.

Hollis Leverett was going to take Aunt Priscilla home and then return
for the others. Sam insisted upon going with them, so grandfather
roasted some corn for Bessy and Doris. They had not the high art of
popping it then and turning it inside out, although now and then a grain
achieved such a success all by itself. Bessy thought Doris rather queer
and not very smart.

The two little ones were bundled up and made ready, and the sleigh came
back with a jingle for warning. Mrs. Hollis took her baby in her arms,
grandfather carried out little Foster, and they were all packed in
snugly and covered up almost head and ears with the great fur robes,
while little Sam shouted out the last good-night.

Mrs. Leverett straightened things in the best room until all the
company air had gone out of it. Doris felt the difference and was glad
to come out to her own chimney corner. Then Betty spread the table and
they had a light supper, for, what with dinner being a little late and
very hearty, no one was hungry. But they sipped their tea and talked
over the children and how finely Sam was getting along in his studies,
and Mrs. Leverett brought up the Manning children, for much as she loved
Hollis, her daughter Mary's children came in for a share of
grandmotherly affection. And in her heart she felt that little James was
quite as good as anybody.

Warren had promised to spend the evening with some young friends. Betty
wished she were a year older and could have the privilege of inviting in
schoolmates and thei