To the three in Mrs. Metherell's sitting-room—three so wide apart in every way but one, and that their love for Him they were looking forward to worship as the Babe of Bethlehem on Christmas Day—it seemed as though an atmosphere of pleasant expectancy surrounded all the world.
"The tree looks lovely," Mrs. Metherell said, when after a few finishing touches Jim declared his work was done, "and it's due to you, sir, entirely! We could never have arranged the things so tastefully, or made them look half so well."
"Pooh, pooh!" exclaimed the lad. "I've had some experience, you know, for we used to have a tree every year at home."
Then he went upstairs, and wrote a long letter to his dear ones in Cornwall, regaling them with an account of the preparations for Mrs. Metherell's party, concluding with a glowing account of the Christmas tree for Nellie's benefit, and confessing he had shared the contents of his hamper with his landlady, for the children's benefit. He knew well that his sister-in-law would enter into his feelings, and be perfectly satisfied that some of her good cheer should go to the little ones.
[CHAPTER VI]
MRS. METHERELL'S PARTY
IF Mrs. Metherell's party had been anticipated with feelings of pleasure and delight, the realisation quite came up to every one's expectations. To many children it would doubtless have appeared a tame affair, but to those who partook of its joys, it left nothing to be desired.
First came the substantial high tea in the roomy underground kitchen, which had been decorated with holly and evergreens for the occasion, the tins on the mantel-shelf shining like silver, and the plated dish-covers on the walls looking like mirrors for brightness. Around the large, square kitchen table sat the children—about a dozen little girls and boys who were at first too busily occupied with the good food, that was such a rare treat to them, to have much to say.
But when the appetites of all were satisfied, the children commenced to chatter, and one small boy whispered audibly to his neighbour: "I never tasted turkey before, an' ain't it just prime!"
Maggie Blundell, her usually pale cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes shining brightly, was one of the quietest of the lot, though she was thoroughly enjoying herself, and making mental notes of everything she saw and every word that was said, with which to entertain Annie for days to come.