"I'm giving a treat to the Sunday-school children after Christmas," Connie confided, as at the end of a brisk walk, they came to the parting of the ways. "I should like you girls, if you will, to help me with the kiddies. The brothers are invited too, if they would fancy it."
"Win would like to help," Frances said quickly, her face lighted with pleasure at this request. "He's very good at things like that, but Roger's only twelve, you know."
"Oh, Roger can hand buns," said Connie at once. "No harm if he does tread on a few. I shall count on you then next week Thursday, three days after Christmas. Take care not to stir abroad on Christmas eve for that's when the Jersey witches hold their meeting at the rock up by St. Clement's."
She waved a laughing adieu and the girls went back to Rose Villa, bubbling over with pleasure and anticipation.
It was fortunate for Frances that she did have this expectation of a visit to the Manor to buoy her spirits, for the season scarcely seemed Christmas. Warm weather and plentiful flowers did not appeal to one accustomed to the holiday in wintry Boston, but not the weather alone disturbed Fran. For some foolish reason she disliked intensely the differences of celebration that marked this holiday in another land. Her state of mind both worried and distressed Mrs. Thayne.
"Why, little daughter, don't you see the fun of having Christmas under strange conditions?" she asked one evening, when she went to investigate a sound of woe from Fran's room.
"No, I don't see any fun in it," replied Frances stubbornly. "I could stand Thanksgiving, even though I had to go to school, because Miss Estelle knew it was an important day to us and had a turkey for dinner and put little American flags around. But Christmas here in St. Aubin's, without Father, is too impossible."
Mrs. Thayne was silent for a moment. Then she sat down on the bed and took Frances in her arms.
"Listen, now," she said. "I want you to think about somebody else for a moment. There's Edith. Just remember how sad this season must be for her and Estelle. Yet Estelle goes about with a smiling face that gives me a heartache because her eyes are so pitiful. She's planning hard to make things pleasant for us and to have it seem Christmas to Edith. I know some of her plans, Fran. Then, even if Father isn't with us, we know he is well and that it is only a question of time before the Philadelphia is where we can be nearer. Win is always self-controlled and naturally he and Roger don't miss the home conditions as you do, but their enjoyment is going to depend largely upon their sister. Why, Fran, you usually like new experiences and here they are looming thick and fast."
"That's just the trouble," sobbed Fran. "I don't want them all piled on top of Christmas. I want to be with Grandmother and the cousins. I can't believe it is Christmas when it's so green and so hot."