es, though Cary offered her his prayer book every time.
And it sounded so hearty to say "Amen" to the prayers, to respond to the
commandments, and sing some of the old chants.

There was a short service in the afternoon, and in the evening she and
Cary sang hymns. They were getting to be very good friends. Then on
Christmas morning they all went again. There was a little "box and fir,"
and a branch of hemlock in the corner, but the people of that day would
have been horrified at the greenery and the flowers met to hail the
birth of Christ to-day.

They paused in the vestibule to give each other a cordial greeting, for
the congregation was not very large.

A fine-looking elderly lady shook hands with Mr. Adams and his son.

"This is my little niece from abroad," announced the elder, "another of
the Adams family. Her father was own nephew to Cousin Charles. Doris,
this is Madam Royall."

"Poor Charles. Yes, I remember him well. Our children spied out the
little girl in the sleigh with you on Saturday, and made no end of
guesses. Is it the child who attends Mrs. Webb's school? Dorcas Payne
goes there this winter, and she has been teasing to have her name
changed to Doris, which she admires beyond measure."

"Yes," answered Doris timidly, as Madam Royall seemed addressing her. "I
know Dorcas Payne."

"Oh, Mr. Adams, I have just thought--our children are going to have a
little time to-night--not anything as pretentious as a party, a sort of
Christmas frolic. Will you not come around and bring Cary and the little
girl? You shall have some Christmas cake and wine with us, Cary can take
tea with Isabel and Alice, and the little girl can have a good romp.
Please do not refuse."

Cary flushed. Mr. Adams looked undecided.

"No, you shall not hunt about for an excuse. Dorcas has talked so much
about the little girl that we are all curious to see her. Shouldn't you
like a frolic with other little girls, my dear?"

Doris smiled with assenting eagerness.

"We shall surely look for you. I shall tell them all that you are
coming, and that I have captured little Doris Adams."

"Very well," returned Mr. Adams.

"At four, exactly. The children's supper is at five."

Doris had tight hold of Uncle Winthrop's hand, and if she had not just
come out of church she must have skipped for very gladness. For Dorcas
Payne had talked about her cousins, the Royalls, and their charming
grandmother, and the good times they had in their f