“For me!” she exclaimed, her eyes as bright as the electrics themselves.
“Yes,” said her mother, bending to kiss the top of her child’s head. “And for Jack,” she added, holding out her other hand to the boy, who came, a bit shyly, to her embrace.
“And for all of us,” shouted Stub gaily; “you can’t leave us out, Mrs. McGuire, and though my small sister seems for the moment to be speechless, yet I can assure you she thinks it’s a very nice tree.”
“Very nice tree!” cried Agnes; “it’s the gorgeousest, wonderfulest tree that ever was on the face of the earth! I know it is!”
After they had admired it over and over, Mrs. McGuire proposed that they take off the gifts, assuring them that such a proceeding would not mar the effect of the tree.
So the ever polite and ready Jack, aided by Stub when the gifts were flung high, took down the presents one by one, and delivered them to those whose names were written on them.
Somehow there seemed to be lots of gifts. For five people, each giving to every one else, made a good many, and then there were a lot of extra ones that just seemed to come from Santa Claus himself.
Of course Lisette was not forgotten, and she stood in the background, delighted beyond words to see Betty’s pleasure in her beautiful Christmas tree.
Mrs. McGuire’s present to her daughter was a gold locket containing a miniature of her own lovely face. It hung from a slender gold chain, and no gift could have pleased Betty more.
“I shall always wear it,” she said, as her mother clasped it round her throat; “and, Mother, you must always wear my gift.”