CHAPTER XI. — SECRET EXPEDITION
‘The Christmas-tree! Oh, mamma, do let it be the Christmas-tree. It is quite well. We’ve been to look at it.’
‘Christmas-trees have got so stale, Val,’ said Gillian.
‘Rot!’ put in Jasper.
‘Oh, please, please, mamma,’ implored Valetta, ‘please let it be the dear old Christmas-tree! You said I should choose because it will be my birthday.’
‘There is no need to whine, Val; you shall have your tree.’
‘I’m so glad!’ cried Mysie. ‘The dear old tree is best of all. I could never get tired of it if I lived to be a hundred years old.’
‘Such are institutions,’ said their mother. ‘I never heard of a Christmas-tree till I was twice your age.’
‘Oh, mamma! How dreadful! What did you do?’
‘I suppose it is all very well for you kids,’ said Jasper, loftily, putting his hands in his pockets.