Accordingly, the little girls repaired to the kitchen, where they found Mrs. John in the midst of packing a hamper with Christmas cheer.
"I dare say I'm very foolish to do this," she was remarking to Jane, who was watching her with a half-smile on her countenance, "but it's your master's wish, and I won't go against him in the matter. There'll be ten shillings' worth in this hamper, if a penny, what with that nice plump chicken, the pudding, a jar of mincemeat, a pound of tea, a pound of butter, and—well children?" she said inquiringly, as the little girls came forward.
"Who is that hamper for, mother?" asked Rose, her curiosity alive in a moment.
"For Richard Butt's wife," was the brief answer.
"Oh, how kind of you, Aunt Lizzie!" cried Mavis. "How pleased she will be, won't she?"
"It's to be hoped so, and I dare say she will. But the kindness is not mine, child, it's your uncle's. 'Fill in the corners of the hamper, Lizzie,' he said, and you see I'm doing it."
"I should like to be looking on when that hamper's opened," observed Jane, as her mistress placed down the cover and began to cord it. "It'll arrive as a blessing, I reckon. Butt was talking to me about his wife and child yesterday, and—"
"His child, Jane? I didn't know he had one," broke in Mrs. John, greatly astonished.
"The baby's only a fortnight old, ma'am. I didn't know there was one myself till yesterday."
"Is it a girl or a boy?"