So many industrious hands soon completed their task. After the gay workers departed, Connie lingered for a last look.
"Come and see it to-morrow morning," she said to the three. "Probably you'll wish to go into town at eleven, but come here for the early service at six."
Edith looked doubtful. "Sister planned to go to St. Aubin's," she said.
"I couldn't come alone," said Frances, her disappointment showing in her face.
"I'll come with you," offered Win so unexpectedly that his sister frankly stared.
"Good!" said Constance. "There'll be no music and only candle-light, but you'll love it. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
That very evening Fran was forced to admit that a Jersey Christmas had its compensations. The doors of the back parlor, mysteriously locked for days, were opened and in the room, gay with holly, mistletoe, and laurestinus, appeared a most delightful little Christmas tree, itself rather foreign in appearance since it was a laurel growing in a big pot. Real English holly concealed the base and merry tapers twinkled a welcome.
Estelle had spent much time and thought, coupled with anxious fears lest these young Americans whose lives seemed so sunny, might not care for so simple a pleasure. Their appreciation, not in the least put on for the occasion, quite repaid her. Inexpensive little gifts adorned the tree, each bearing a number.
"Draw a slip," commanded Roger, appearing before his mother with a box.
"Take a chance and see what you'll get."
When all the slips were distributed, Roger as instructed by Estelle, took a gift at random from the tree and called its attached number.