But Teeny-bits Holbrook could not help contrasting this luxurious home where every reasonable comfort was in evidence, where there were fireplaces and soft rugs and rich paintings, with his own poor little home in Hamilton where Ma Holbrook did the work and with her own hands kept everything shining and clean.
For six days he lived a life that he had never lived before. They skated at the country club where the new ice had formed over an artificial pond, drove out in the car over frozen roads to Waygonack Inn for dinner and danced in the evening, went to the theater and "took in", as Sylvia called it, two or three parties that were important incidents of the holiday festivities at Dellsport. Everywhere they encountered jolly crowds of young fellows and girls.
"Every one seems to fall for you, Teeny-bits," said Neil to the new captain of the Ridgley team one day, "and they all call you by your nickname. If you stayed round here very long you'd have them all wearing a path to our front door."
"You know why it is," replied Teeny-bits, "it's because I'm a friend of yours."
"You're off the track," said Neil, "you're wild, man. You've got a way with you without knowing it, and as for the girls around here—oh, my heavens!"
"I never realized before what an awful kidder you are, but anyhow I know I'm having the time of my life," said Teeny-bits.
But in spite of the gayety, Teeny-bits thought often of Ma Holbrook and old Dad Holbrook who for the first time in many years were spending Christmas alone. Early in the week he went down to the Dellsport shops with Neil and selected presents which he thought would please them both.
On the day before Christmas, Major-General Durant, who had been attending a conference in Washington, came home. Teeny-bits had expected to stand in awe before this high official of the United States Army; he was therefore somewhat surprised to find him a genial, easy-to-talk-to man who took obvious delight in getting back to the freedom and informality of his home. He was full of stories and keenly interested in Ridgley School affairs. He himself was the most prominent alumnus of Ridgley and had many an incident to tell Neil and Teeny-bits about the days when he himself had played on the football team.
Christmas passed all too quickly. The Durants celebrated it in the good, old-fashioned manner with a big tree in the living room where a roaring fire of logs sent myriads of sparks leaping up the chimney. There were gifts from all the family to Teeny-bits and not the least appreciated of the presents that came to the visitor was a pair of fur-lined gloves from Ma and Pa Holbrook, just such a pair as they would select,—warm and substantial.
Sylvia Durant seemed to have a way of understanding what a person was thinking about. "Isn't that a good present!" she said. "They're so warm and comfortable feeling. They'll be just what you'll need for the winter sports up at the Norris place."