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diff --git a/20187.txt b/20187.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e517a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/20187.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1176 @@ +Project Gutenberg's On Christmas Day in the Morning, by Grace S. Richmond + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: On Christmas Day in the Morning + +Author: Grace S. Richmond + +Illustrator: Charles M. Relyea + +Release Date: December 26, 2006 [EBook #20187] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE MORNING *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "'I HAVEN'T GIVEN YOU ANY CHRISTMAS PRESENT. + WILL--I--DO?'"] + + + On + Christmas Day + in the Morning + + + _By_ + GRACE S. RICHMOND + + + Illustrated by + CHARLES M. RELYEA + + + + GARDEN CITY NEW YORK + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + MCMXI + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY + THE RIDGWAY-THAYER COMPANY + + COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + + * * * * * + + + + +Illustrations + + +"'I haven't given you any Christmas present. Will--I--do?'" _Frontispiece_ + +"Stumbling over their own feet and bundles ... the crew poured into the +warm kitchen" + +"'The children!' she was saying. 'They--they--John--they must be _here_'" + +"'Merry Christmas, mammy and daddy!'" + + * * * * * + + + + +On Christmas Day in the Morning + + And all the angels in heaven do sing, + On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day; + And all the bells on earth do ring, + On Christmas Day in the morning. + +--OLD SONG. + + +That Christmas Day virtually began a whole year beforehand, with a +red-hot letter written by Guy Fernald to his younger sister, Nan, who +had been married to Samuel Burnett just two and one-half years. The +letter was read aloud by Mrs. Burnett to her husband at the breakfast +table, the second day after Christmas. From start to finish it was +upon one subject, and it read as follows: + +DEAR NAN: + + It's a confounded, full-grown shame that not a soul of us + all got home for Christmas--except yours truly, and he only + for a couple of hours. What have the blessed old folks done + to us that we treat them like this? I was invited to the + Sewalls' for the day, and went, of course--you know why. We + had a ripping time, but along toward evening I began to feel + worried. I really thought Ralph was home--he wrote me that + he might swing round that way by the holidays--but I knew + the rest of you were all wrapped up in your own Christmas + trees and weren't going to get there. + + Well, I took the seven-thirty down and walked in on them. + Sitting all alone by the fire, by George, just like the + pictures you see of "The Birds All Flown," and that sort of + thing. I felt gulpish in my throat, on my honour I did, when + I looked at them. Mother just gave one gasp and flew into my + arms, and Dad got up more slowly--he has that darned + rheumatism worse than ever this winter--and came over and I + thought he'd shake my hand off. Well--I sat down between + them by the fire, and pretty soon I got down in the old way + on a cushion by mother, and let her run her fingers through + my hair, the way she used to--and Nan, I'll be indicted for + perjury if her hand wasn't trembly. They were so glad to + see me it made my throat ache. + + Ralph had written he couldn't get round, and of course you'd + all written and sent them things--jolly things, and they + appreciated them. But--blame it all--they were just dead + lonesome--and the whole outfit of us within three hundred + miles, most within thirty! + + Nan--next Christmas it's going to be different. That's all I + say. I've got it all planned out. The idea popped into my + head when I came away last night. Not that they had a word + of blame--not they. They understood all about the children, + and the cold snap, and Ed's being under the weather, and + Oliver's wife's neuralgia, and Ralph's girl in the West, and + all that. But that didn't make the thing any easier for + them. As I say, next year--But you'll all hear from me then. + Meanwhile--run down and see them once or twice this winter, + will you, Nan? Somehow it struck me they aren't so young + as--they used to be. + + Splendid winter weather. Margaret Sewall's a peach, but I + don't seem to make much headway. My best to Sam. + +Your affectionate brother, + +GUY. + +Gay Nan had felt a slight choking in her own throat as she read this +letter. "We really must make an effort to be there Christmas next +year, Sam," she said to her husband, and Sam assented cheerfully. He +only wished there were a father and mother somewhere in the world for +him to go home to. + +Guy wrote the same sort of thing, with more or less detail, to Edson +and Oliver, his married elder brothers; to Ralph, his unmarried +brother; and to Carolyn--Mrs. Charles Wetmore, his other--and +elder--married sister. He received varied and more or less sympathetic +responses, to the effect that with so many little children, and such +snowdrifts as always blocked the roads leading toward North Estabrook, +it really was not strange--and of course somebody would go next year. +But they had all sent the nicest gifts they could find. Didn't Guy +think mother liked those beautiful Russian sables Ralph sent her? And +wasn't father pleased with his gold-headed cane from Oliver? Surely +with such presents pouring in from all the children, Father and Mother +Fernald couldn't feel so awfully neglected. + +"Gold-headed cane be hanged!" Guy exploded when he read this last +sentence from the letter of Marian, Oliver's wife. "I'll bet she put +him up to it. If anybody dares give me a gold-headed cane before I'm +ninety-five I'll thrash him with it on the spot. He wasn't using it, +either--bless him. He had his old hickory stick, and he wouldn't have +had that if that abominable rheumatism hadn't gripped him so hard. He +isn't old enough to use a cane, by jolly, and Ol ought to know it, if +Marian doesn't. I'm glad I sent him that typewriter. He liked that, I +know he did, and it'll amuse him, too--not make him think he's ready +to die!" + +Guy was not the fellow to forget anything which had taken hold of him +as that pathetic Christmas home-coming had done. When the year had +nearly rolled around, the first of December saw him at work getting +his plans in train. He began with his eldest brother, Oliver, because +he considered Mrs. Oliver the hardest proposition he had to tackle in +the carrying out of his idea. + +"You see," he expounded patiently, as they sat and stared at him, "it +isn't that they aren't always awfully glad to see the whole outfit, +children and all, but it just struck me it would do 'em a lot of good +to revive old times. I thought if we could make it just as much as +possible like one of the old Christmases before anybody got +married--hang up the stockings and all, you know--it would give them a +mighty jolly surprise. I plan to have us all creep in in the night and +go to bed in our old rooms. And then in the morning--See?" + +Mrs. Oliver looked at him. An eager flush lit his still boyish +face--Guy was twenty-eight--and his blue eyes were very bright. His +lithe, muscular figure bent toward her pleadingly; all his arguments +were aimed at her. Oliver sat back in his impassive way and watched +them both. It could not be denied that it was Marian's decisions which +usually ruled in matters of this sort. + +"It seems to me a very strange plan," was Mrs. Oliver's comment, when +Guy had laid the whole thing before her in the most tactful manner he +could command. She spoke rather coldly. "It is not usual to think that +families should be broken up like this on Christmas Day, of all days +in the year. Four families, with somebody gone--a mother or a +father--just to please two elderly people who expect nothing of the +sort, and who understand just why we can't all get home at once. Don't +you think you are really asking a good deal?" + +Guy kept his temper, though it was hard work. "It doesn't seem to me I +am," he answered quite gently. "It's only for once. I really don't +think father and mother would care much what sort of presents we +brought them, if we only came ourselves. Of course, I know I'm asking +a sacrifice of each family, and it may seem almost an insult not to +invite the children and all, yet--perhaps next year we'll try a +gathering of all the clans. But just for this year--honestly--I do +awfully wish you'd give me my way. If you'd seen those two last +Christmas--" + +He broke off, glancing appealingly at Oliver himself. To his surprise, +that gentleman shifted his pipe to the corner of his mouth and put a +few pertinent questions to his younger brother. Had he thought it all +out? What time should they arrive there? How early on the day after +Christmas could they get away? Was he positive they could all crowd +into the house without rousing and alarming the pair? + +"Sure thing," Guy declared, quickly. "Marietta--well, you know I've +had the soft side of her old heart ever since I was born, somehow. I +talked it all over with her last year, and I'm solid with her, all +right. She'll work the game. You see, father's quite a bit deaf now--" + +"Father deaf?" + +"Sure. Didn't you know it?" + +"Forgotten. But mother'd hear us." + +"No, she wouldn't. Don't you know how she trusts everything about the +house to Marietta since she got that fall--" + +"Mother get a fall?" + +"Why, _yes_!" Guy stared at his brother with some impatience. "Don't +you remember she fell down the back stairs a year ago last October, +and hurt her knee?" + +"Certainly, Oliver," his wife interposed. "I wrote for you to tell her +how sorry we were. But I supposed she had entirely recovered." + +"She's a little bit lame, and always will be," said Guy, a touch of +reproach in his tone. "Her knee stiffens up in the night, and she +doesn't get up and go prowling about at the least noise, the way she +used to. Marietta won't let her. So if we make a whisper of noise +Marietta'll tell her it's the cat or something. Good Lord! yes--it can +be worked all right. The only thing that worries me is the fear that I +can't get you all to take hold of the scheme. On my word, Ol,"--he +turned quite away from his sister-in-law's critical gaze and faced his +brother with something like indignation in his frank young +eyes--"don't we owe the old home anything but a present tied up in +tissue paper once a year?" + +Marian began to speak. She thought Guy was exceeding his rights in +talking as if they had been at fault. It was not often that elderly +people had so many children within call--loyal children who would do +anything within reason. But certainly a man owed something to his own +family. And at Christmas! Why not carry out this plan at some other-- + +Her husband abruptly interrupted her. He took his pipe quite out of +his mouth and spoke decidedly. + +"Guy, I believe you're right. I'll be sorry to desert my own kids, of +course, but I rather think they can stand it for once. If the others +fall into line, you may count on me." + +Guy got away, feeling that the worst of his troubles was over. In his +younger sister, Nan, he hoped to find an ardent ally and he was not +disappointed. Carolyn--Mrs. Charles Wetmore--also fell in heartily +with the plan. Ralph, from somewhere in the far West, wrote that he +would get home or break a leg. Edson thought the idea rather a foolish +one, but was persuaded by Jessica, his wife--whom Guy privately +declared a trump--that he must go by all means. And so they all fell +into line, and there remained for Guy only the working out of the +details. + + * * * * * + +"Mis' Fernald"--Marietta Cooley strove with all the decision of which +she was capable to keep her high-pitched, middle-aged voice in +order--"'fore you get to bed I'm most forgettin' what I was to ask +you. I s'pose you'll laugh, but Guy--he wrote me partic'lar he wanted +you and his father to"--Marietta's rather stern, thin face took on a +curious expression--"to hang up your stockin's." + +Mrs. Fernald paused in the door-way of the bedroom opening from the +sitting-room downstairs. She looked back at Marietta with her gentle +smile. + +"Guy wrote that?" she asked. "Then--it almost looks as if he might be +coming himself, doesn't it, Marietta?" + +"Well, I don't know's I'd really expect him," Marietta replied, +turning her face away and busying herself about the hearth. "I guess +what he meant was more in the way of a surprise for a Christmas +present--something that'll go into a stockin', maybe." + +"It's rather odd he should have written you to ask me," mused Mrs. +Fernald, as she looked out the stockings. + +Marietta considered rapidly. "Well, I s'pose he intended for me to get +'em on the sly without mentionin' it to you, an' put in what he sent, +but I sort of guessed you might like to fall in with his idee by +hangin' 'em up yourself, here by the chimbley, where the children all +used to do it. Here's the nails, same as they always was." + +Mrs. Fernald found the stockings, and touched her husband on the +shoulder, as he sat unlacing his shoes. "Father, Guy wrote he wanted +us to hang up our stockings," she said, raising her voice a little and +speaking very distinctly. The elderly man beside her looked up, +smiling. + +"Well, well," he said, "anything to please the boy. It doesn't seem +more than a year since he was a little fellow hanging up his own +stocking, does it, mother?" + +The stockings were hung in silence. They looked thin and lonely as +they dangled beside the dying fire. Marietta hastened to make them +less lonely. "Well," she said, in a shame-faced way, "the silly boy +said I was to hang mine, too. Goodness knows what he'll find to put +into it that'll fit, 'less it's a poker." + +They smiled kindly at her, wished her good night, and went back into +their own room. The little episode had aroused no suspicions. It was +very like Guy's affectionate boyishness. + +"I presume he'll be down," said Mrs. Fernald, as she limped quietly +about the room, making ready for bed. "Don't you remember how he +surprised us last year? I'm sorry the others can't come. Of course, I +sent them all the invitation, just as usual--I shall always do +that--but it _is_ pretty snowy weather, and I suppose they don't quite +like to risk it." + +Presently, as she was putting out the light, she heard Marietta at the +door. + +"Mis' Fernald, Peter Piper's got back in this part o' the house, +somehow, and I can't lay hands on him. Beats all how cute that cat is. +Seem's if he knows when I'm goin' to put him out in the wood-shed. I +don't think likely he'll do no harm, but I thought I'd tell you, so 'f +you heard any queer noises in the night you'd know it was Peter." + +"Very well, Marietta"--the soft voice came back to the schemer on the +other side of the door. "Peter will be all right, wherever he is. I +shan't be alarmed if I hear him." + +"All right, Mis' Fernald; I just thought I'd let you know," and the +guileful one went grinning away. + + * * * * * + +_There was a long silence in the quiet sleeping-room. Then, out of the +darkness, came this little colloquy:_ + +_"Emeline, you aren't getting to sleep."_ + +_"I--know I'm not, John. I--Christmas Eve keeps one awake, somehow. It +always did."_ + +_"Yes.... I don't suppose the children realise at all, do they?"_ + +_"Oh, no--oh, no! They don't realise--they never will, till--they're +here themselves. It's all right. I think--I think at least Guy will be +down to-morrow, don't you?"_ + +_"I guess maybe he will." Then, after a short silence. "Mother--you've +got me, you know. You know--you've always got me, dear."_ + +_"Yes." She would not let him hear the sob in her voice. She crept +close, and spoke cheerfully in his best ear. "And you've got me, +Johnny Boy!"_ + +_"Thank the Lord, I have!"_ + +_So, counting their blessings, they fell asleep at last. But, even in +sleep, one set of lashes was strangely wet._ + + * * * * * + +"Christopher Jinks, what a drift!" + +"Lucky we weren't two hours later." + +"_Sh-h_--they might hear us." + +"Nan, stop laughing, or I'll drop a snowball down your neck!" + +"Here, Carol, give me your hand. I'll plough you through. Large bodies +move slowly, of course, but go elbows first and you'll get there." + +"Gee _whiz_! Can't you get that door open? I'll bet it's frozen fast." + +A light showed inside the kitchen. The storm-door swung open, +propelled by force from inside. A cautious voice said low: "That the +Fernald family?" + +A chorus of whispers came back at Miss Marietta Cooley: + +"Yes, yes--let us in, we're freezing." + +"You bet we're the Fernald family--every man-Jack of us--not one +missing." + +"Oh, Marietta--you dear old thing!" + +"Hurry up--this is their side of the house." + +"_Sh-h-h_--" + +"Carol, your _sh-h-ishes_ would wake the dead!" + +[Illustration: "STUMBLING OVER THEIR OWN FEET AND BUNDLES ... THE CREW +POURED INTO THE WARM KITCHEN"] + +Stumbling over their own feet and bundles in the endeavour to be +preternaturally quiet, the crew poured into the warm kitchen. Bearded +Oliver, oldest of the clan; stout Edson, big Ralph, tall and slender +Guy--and the two daughters of the house, Carolyn, growing plump and +rosy at thirty; Nan, slim and girlish at twenty-four--they were all +there. Marietta heaved a sigh of content as she looked them over. + +"Well, I didn't really think you'd get here--all of you. Thank the +Lord, you have. I s'pose you're tearin' hungry, bein' past 'leven. If +you think you can eat quiet as cats, I'll feed you up, but if you're +goin' to make as much rumpus as you did comin' round the corner o' the +wood-shed I'll have to pack you straight off to bed up the back +stairs." + +They pleaded for mercy and hot food. They got it--everything that +could be had that would diffuse no odour of cookery through the +house. Smoking clam-broth, a great pot of baked beans, cold meats, and +jellies--they had no reason to complain of their reception. They ate +hungrily with the appetites of winter travel. + +"Say, but this is great," exulted Ralph, the stalwart, consuming a +huge wedge of mince pie with a fine disregard for any consequences +that might overtake him. "This alone is worth it. I haven't eaten such +pie in a century. What a jolly place this old kitchen is! Let's have a +candy-pull to-morrow. I haven't been home Christmas in--let me see--by +Jove, I believe it's six--seven--yes, seven years. Look here: there's +been some excuse for me, but what about you people that live near?" + +He looked accusingly about. Carolyn got up and came around to him. +"Don't talk about it to-night," she whispered. "We haven't any of us +realised how long it's been." + +"We'll get off to bed now," Guy declared, rising. "I can't get over +the feeling that they may catch us down here. If either of them should +want some hot water or anything--" + +"The dining-room door's bolted," Marietta assured him, "but it might +need explainin' if I had to bring 'em hot water by way of the parlour. +Now, go awful careful up them stairs. They're pretty near over your +ma's head, but I don't dare have you tramp through the settin'-room to +the front ones. Now, remember that seventh stair creaks like +Ned--you've got to step right on the outside edge of it to keep it +quiet. I don't know but what you boys better step right up over that +seventh stair without touchin' foot to it." + +"All right--we'll step!" + +"Who's going to fix the bundles?" Carolyn paused to ask as she started +up the stairs. + +"Marietta," Guy answered. "I've labeled every one, so it'll be easy. +If they hear paper rattle, they'll think it's the usual presents we've +sent on, and if they come out they'll see Marietta, so it's all right. +Quiet, now. Remember the seventh stair!" + +They crept up, one by one, each to his or her old room. There needed +to be no "doubling up," for the house was large, and each room had +been left precisely as its owner had left it. It was rather ghostly, +this stealing silently about with candles, and in the necessity for +the suppression of speech the animation of the party rather suffered +eclipse. It was late, and they were beginning to be sleepy, so they +were soon in bed. But, somehow, once composed for slumber, more than +one grew wakeful again. + +Guy, lying staring at a patch of wintry moonlight on the odd striped +paper of his wall--it had stopped snowing since they had come into the +house, and the clouds had broken away, leaving a brilliant +sky--discovered his door to be softly opening. The glimmer of a candle +filtered through the crack, a voice whispered his name. + +"Who is it?" he answered under his breath. + +"It's Nan. May I come in?" + +"Of course. What's up?" + +"Nothing. I wanted to talk a minute." She came noiselessly in, wrapped +in a woolly scarlet kimono, scarlet slippers on her feet, her brown +braids hanging down her back. The frost-bloom lately on her cheeks had +melted into a ruddy glow, her eyes were stars. She set her candle on +the little stand, and sat down on the edge of Guy's bed. He raised +himself on his elbow and lay looking appreciatively at her. + +"This is like old times," he said. "But won't you be cold?" + +"Not a bit. I'm only going to stay a minute. Anyhow, this thing is +warm as toast.... Yes, isn't it like old times?" + +"Got your lessons for to-morrow?" + +She laughed. "All but my Caesar. You'll help me with that, in the +morning, won't you?" + +"Sure--if you'll make some cushions for my bobs." + +"I will. Guy--how's Lucy Harper?" + +"She's all right. How's Bob Fields?" + +"Oh, I don't care for him, now!" She tossed her head. + +He kept up the play. "Like Dave Strong better, huh? He's a softy." + +"He isn't. Oh, Guy--I heard you had a new girl." + +"New girl nothing. Don't care for girls." + +"Yes, you do. At least I think you do. Her name's--Margaret." + +The play ceased abruptly. Guy's face changed. "Perhaps I do," he +murmured, while his sister watched him in the candle-light. + +"She won't answer yet?" she asked very gently. + +"Not a word." + +"You've cared a good while, haven't you, dear?" + +"Seems like ages. Suppose it isn't." + +"No--only two years, really caring hard. Plenty of time left." + +He moved his head impatiently. "Yes, if I didn't mind seeing her smile +on Tommy Gower--de'il take him--just as sweetly as she smiles on me. +If she ever held out the tip of her finger to me, I'd seize it and +hold on to it for fair. But she doesn't. She won't. And she's going +South next week for the rest of the winter, and there's a fellow down +there in South Carolina where she goes--oh, he--he's red-headed after +her, like the rest of us. And, well--I'm up against it good and hard, +Nan, and that's the truth." + +"Poor boy. And you gave up going to see her on Christmas Day, and came +down here into the country just to--" + +"Just to get even with myself for the way I've neglected 'em these two +years while my head's been so full of--her. It isn't fair. After last +year I'd have come home to-day if it had meant I had to +lose--well--Margaret knows I'm here. I don't know what she thinks." + +"I don't believe, Guy, boy, she thinks the less of you. Yes--I must +go. It will all come right in the end, dear--I'm sure of it. No, I +don't know how Margaret feels--Good night--good night!" + + * * * * * + +Christmas morning, breaking upon a wintry world--the Star in the East +long set. Outside the house a great silence of drift-wrapped hill and +plain;--inside, a crackling fire upon a wide hearth, and a pair of +elderly people waking to a lonely holiday. + +[Illustration: "'THE CHILDREN!' SHE WAS SAYING. +'THEY--THEY--JOHN--THEY MUST BE HERE!'"] + +Mrs. Fernald crept to the door of her room--the injured knee always +made walking difficult after a night's quiet. She meant to sit down by +the fire which she had lately heard Marietta stirring and feeding into +activity, and warm herself at its flame. She remembered with a sad +little smile that she and John had hung their stockings there, and +looked to see what miracle had been wrought in the night. + +"_Father_!"--Her voice caught in her throat.... What was all this?... +By some mysterious influence her husband learned that she was calling +him, though he had not really heard. He came to the door and looked at +her, then at the chimneypiece where the stockings hung--a long row of +them, as they had not hung since the children grew up--stockings of +quality: one of brown silk, Nan's; a fine gray sock with scarlet +clocks, Ralph's,--all stuffed to the top, with bundles overflowing +upon the chimneypiece and even to the floor below. + +"What's this--what's this?" John Fernald's voice was puzzled. "Whose +are these?" He limped closer. He put on his spectacles and stared hard +at a parcel protruding from the sock with the scarlet clocks. + +"'_Merry Christmas to Ralph from Nan_,'" he read. "'To Ralph from +Nan,'" he repeated vaguely. His gaze turned to his wife. His eyes were +wide like a child's. But she was getting to her feet, from the chair +into which she had dropped. + +"The children!" she was saying. "They--they--John--they must be +_here_!" + +He followed her through the chilly hall to the front staircase, seldom +used now, and up--as rapidly as those slow, stiff joints would allow. +Trembling, Mrs. Fernald pushed open the first door at the top. + +A rumpled brown head raised itself from among the pillows, a pair of +sleepy but affectionate brown eyes smiled back at the two faces +peering in, and a voice brimful of mirth cried softly: "Merry +Christmas, mammy and daddy!" They stared at her, their eyes growing +misty. _It was their little daughter Nan, not yet grown up!_ + +They could not believe it. Even when they had been to every room;--had +seen their big son Ralph, still sleeping, his yet youthful face, full +of healthy colour, pillowed on his brawny arm, and his mother had +gently kissed him awake to be half-strangled in his hug;--when they +had met Edson's hearty laugh as he fired a pillow at them--carefully, +so that his father could catch it;--when they had seen plump pretty +Carol pulling on her stockings as she sat on the floor smiling up at +them;--Oliver, advancing to meet them in his bath-robe and +slippers;--Guy, holding out both arms from above his blankets, and +shouting "Merry Christmas!--and how do you like your children?"--even +then it was difficult to realise that not one was missing--and that no +one else was there. Unconsciously Mrs. Fernald found herself looking +about for the sons' wives and daughters' husbands and children. She +loved them all;--yet--to have her own, and no others, just for this +one day--it was happiness indeed. + +When they were all downstairs, about the fire, there was great +rejoicing. They had Marietta in; indeed, she had been hovering +continuously in the background, to the apparently frightful jeopardy +of the breakfast in preparation, upon which, nevertheless, she had +managed to keep a practised eye. + +"And you were in it, Marietta?" Mr. Fernald said to her in +astonishment, when he first saw her. "How in the world did you get all +these people into the house and to bed without waking us?" + +"It was pretty consid'able of a resk," Marietta replied, with modest +pride, "'seein' as how they was inclined to be middlin' lively. But I +kep' a-hushin' 'em up, and I filled 'em up so full of victuals they +couldn't talk. I didn't know's there'd be any eatables left for +to-day," she added--which last remark, since she had been slyly baking +for a week, Guy thought might be considered pure bluff. + +At the breakfast table, while the eight heads were bent, this +thanksgiving arose, as the master of the house, in a voice not quite +steady, offered it to One Unseen: + +_Thou who camest to us on that first Christmas Day, we bless Thee for +this good and perfect gift Thou sendest us to-day, that Thou +forgettest us not in these later years, but givest us the greatest joy +of our lives in these our loyal children._ + +Nan's hand clutched Guy's under the table. "Doesn't that make it worth +it?" his grasp said to her, and hers replied with a frantic pressure, +"Indeed it does, but we don't deserve it." + +... It was late in the afternoon, a tremendous Christmas dinner well +over, and the group scattered, when Guy and his mother sat alone by +the fire. The "boys" had gone out to the great stock barn with their +father to talk over with him every detail of the prosperous business +he, with the help of an invaluable assistant, was yet able to manage. +Carolyn and Nan had ostensibly gone with them, but in reality the +former was calling upon an old friend of her childhood, and the latter +had begged a horse and sleigh and driven merrily away alone upon an +errand she would tell no one but her mother. + +[Illustration: "'MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAMMY AND DADDY!'"] + +Mrs. Fernald sat in her low chair at the side of the hearth, her son +upon a cushion at her feet, his head resting against her knee. Her +slender fingers were gently threading the thick locks of his hair, as +she listened while he talked to her of everything in his life, and, at +last, of the one thing he cared most about. + +"Sometimes I get desperate and think I may as well give her up for +good and all," he was saying. "She's so--so--_elusive_--I don't know +any other word for it. I never can tell how I stand with her. She's +going South next week. I've asked her to answer me before she goes. +Somehow I've clung to the hope that I'd get my answer to-day. You'll +laugh, but I left word with my office-boy to wire me if a note or +anything from her came. It's four o'clock, and I haven't heard. +She--you see, I can't help thinking it's because she's going to--turn +me down--and--hates to do it--Christmas Day!" + +He turned suddenly and buried his face in his mother's lap; his +shoulders heaved a little in spite of himself. His mother's hand +caressed his head more tenderly than ever, but, if he could have seen, +her eyes were very bright. + +They were silent for a long time. Then suddenly a jingle of sleigh +bells approached through the falling winter twilight, drew near, and +stopped at the door. Guy's mother laid her hands upon his shoulders. +"Son," she said, "there's some one stopping now. Perhaps it's the boy +with a message from the station." + +He was on his feet in an instant. Her eyes followed him as he rushed +away through the hall. Then she rose and quietly closed the +sitting-room door behind him. + +As Guy flung open the front door, a tall and slender figure in gray +furs and a wide gray hat was coming up the walk. Eyes whose glance had +long been his dearest torture met Guy Fernald's and fell. Lips like +which there were no others in the world smiled tremulously in response +to his eager exclamation. And over the piquant young face rose an +exquisite colour which was not altogether born of the wintry air. The +girl who for two years had been only "elusive" had taken the +significant step of coming to North Estabrook in response to an +eloquent telephone message sent that morning by Nan. + +Holding both her hands fast, Guy led her up into the house--and found +himself alone with her in the shadowy hall. With one gay shout Nan had +driven away toward the barn. The inner doors were all closed. Blessing +the wondrous sagacity of his womankind, Guy took advantage of his +moment. + +"Nan brought you--I see that. I know you're very fond of her, but--you +didn't come wholly to please her, did you--Margaret?" + +"Not wholly." + +"I've been looking all day for my answer. I--oh--I wonder if--" he was +gathering courage from her aspect, which for the first time in his +experience failed to keep him at a distance--"_dare_ I think +you--_bring it_?" + +She slowly lifted her face. "I thought it was so--so dear of you," she +murmured, "to come home to your people instead of--staying with me. I +thought you deserved--what you say--you want--" + +"_Margaret_--you--" + +"I haven't given you any Christmas present. Will--I--do?" + +"Will _you_ do!... _Oh_!"--It was a great explosive sigh of relief +and joy, and as he gave vent to it he caught her close. +"Will--_you_--do!... Good Lord!... I rather _think you will_!" + + * * * * * + +_"Emeline--"_ + +_"Yes, John dear?"_ + +_"You're not--crying?"_ + +_"Oh, no--no, no, John!" What a blessing deafness is sometimes! The +ear cannot detect the delicate tremolo which might tell the story too +plainly. And in the darkness of night, the eye cannot see._ + +_"It's been a pretty nice day, hasn't it?"_ + +_"A beautiful day!"_ + +_"I guess there's no doubt but the children care a good deal for the +old folks yet."_ + +_"No doubt at all, dear."_ + +_"It's good to think they're all asleep under the roof once more, +isn't it?--And one extra one. We like her, don't we?"_ + +_"Oh, very, very much!"_ + +_"Yes, Guy's done well. I always thought he'd get her, if he hung on. +The Fernalds always hang on, but Guy's got a mite of a temper--I +didn't know but he might let go a little too soon. Well--it's great to +think they all plan to spend every Christmas Day with us, isn't it, +Emeline?"_ + +_"Yes, dear--it's--great."_ + +_"Well--I must let you go to sleep. It's been a big day, and I guess +you're tired. Emeline, we've not only got each other--we've got the +children too. That's a pretty happy thing at our age, isn't it, now?"_ + +_"Yes--yes."_ + +_"Good night--Christmas Night, Emeline."_ + +_"Good night, dear."_ + + * * * * * + +By the Same Author + +The Second Violin +The Indifference of Juliet +With Juliet in England +Round the Corner in Gay Street + +Also many short stories for children + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Christmas Day in the Morning, by +Grace S. 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