He was waiting for her when school closed the next afternoon, and together they caught the three-twenty for town. The boxes must go the next day without fail. They shopped until dinner time—Uncle Cliff’s vigorous methods making even Blue Bonnet feel rather dizzy—then dined in delightful holiday fashion at one of the big, gaily-lighted restaurants; where, what with the crowds, the music, and the excitement of it all, Blue Bonnet found it hard to eat anything.
Then back on the eight o’clock for the final fillings-in, at which not only the club en masse, but Grandmother and Aunt Lucinda were present.
At last the finishing spray of holly was laid on the top of each generously-stored box, the covers were nailed on by Mr. Ashe, the addresses marked.
Blue Bonnet drew a long breath—“We did get them done—in time!” She waltzed Debby up and down the room with its litter of paper and string, its ends of Christmas ribbons and soft-tinted cotton. “But this ‘we’ wouldn’t’ve, if it hadn’t’ve been for you all.”
“To-morrow they’ll be on their way, Solomon!” she assured him later; and later still, lying awake in her room, with the fire throwing flickering shadows over walls and ceiling, Blue Bonnet tried to picture to herself the unpacking of those boxes, in lonely ranch house, and, perhaps, almost as lonely parsonage.
Uncle Joe Terry’s delight when her laughing face looked up at him from its silver frame; and Carita’s joy on opening a certain envelope, in which was a printed certificate telling how for twelve long, happy months, that most welcome of all visitor, dear old Saint Nicholas, was to make his appearance at the Judson home.
“Aunt Lucinda suggested that, too,” Blue Bonnet said to herself, sleepily. Christmas was the dearest time in all the year,—she had always known that,—but this year she was finding out its wonderful possibilities more clearly every day.
Two or three days later those dreadful examinations began, and like a good many other things in this world, proved upon closer acquaintance not half so dreadful as they had seemed, viewed at long distance.
“I’m getting all the questions that I know,” Blue Bonnet rejoiced more than once; but for all her rejoicing, she walked softly those days.
“They’re over at last!” she told her uncle, coming home one afternoon.