The good old inspector was much affected at receiving from his child the thanks which were due to others; he stroked her soft hair, and his eyes grew moist, as he took her hand and led her back to the Frau Pastorin, saying, "No, darling, no! Your thanks belong here."
But the Frau Pastorin had no time now to receive thanks. She was busy with her Pastor, whom she had drawn aside to see how his new dressing-gown fitted. It was fortunate that it did not happen to be a pair of pantaloons, for in the joy and excitement of this evening, the impropriety would never have occurred to her mind. The gown fitted well, and looked finely, and she drew back a couple of steps and looked at her Pastor, like a child when it has set up a new doll in the sofa-corner, and as she turned round she saw a package lying on her dish, which her Pastor had secretly placed there. Hastily she untied the string, and took off the wrappings, chattering all the while. What could it be? How strangely it felt! Somebody was surely playing a joke on her,--and at last, there was a beautiful black silk dress. Now the joy was at its height. Habermann had found a new pipe on his plate, and held it in his mouth, puffing contentedly, although it was quite cold, the Pastor lay back in the sofa-corner, like the new doll, and the Frau Pastorin and Louise walked up and down the room holding up the stuff for their new dresses, and looking down at them, as if the dresses were already finished.
And Franz! Franz sat a little aside, and a slight sadness stole over him, at the thought of the joys he had missed since his childhood. He rested his head on his hand, and the Christmas eves of his life passed before him; kind friends and relatives brought him their greetings, but the two faces which hung in his room, under the wreath of immortelles, were missing. He felt that he did not belong here, but he would not disturb their joy; he recalled his thoughts, and as he raised his head he looked into a pair of great, beautiful, childish eyes, full of thought and compassion, as if they had read his heart.
"Yule rap!" cried Rika's loud voice, and a package flew in at the door, "For the Frau Pastorin." It was a nice roller, and nobody knew where it came from. "Yule rap!" again; and this time it was a new stuffed cushion for the Pastor's arm-chair; but nobody had made it. Oh, what fibs they told that evening at the parsonage! "Yule rap!" There was a letter for the Frau Pastorin, and in it a ticket with a number, referring to another ticket up-stairs, and when she had got this, it referred her to another down in the cellar, and that to another, and another,--and if the Frau Pastorin wanted the pretty embroidered collar designed for her, she must chase it all over the house, to find it, at last, close by, in her husband's boot-leg. Another "Yule rap!" All, that was a great package! "To the Herr Pastor," it was addressed, but when the first wrapper was taken off, it was for the Frau Pastorin, and then for George, and then for Rika, and finally for Louise, and when the last paper had been taken off, there was a little work-table, exactly such a work-table as her father had given years ago to her dead mother. He knew where it came from, no one else.
Then another "Yule rap!" Books for Louise. "Yule rap!" again--an embroidered foot-cover for Habermann. All this time Rika had not been visible. Now she came in and gathered up the wrapping paper and string. Then the door opened once more, a clear bell-like voice cried "Yule rap!" and, as the package was examined, it was found to be "For the Honourable Herr Franz von Rambow," and while they were looking, a little maiden crept softly in on tip-toe, a great joy beaming in her face.
Franz was taken by surprise, but when he opened his package, he found a letter from his youngest cousin Fidelia, and the three unmarried daughters of the Kammerrath had sent him their Christmas gifts--Albertine a smoking-cushion, and he never smoked on a sofa,--Bertha a saddle-cover, and as yet he had no horse,--and Fidelia a cigar-case, and in fact he never smoked at all. But what of that? Whether one can use them or not, it is all one; not the gift, but the giver, and the good-will is the important thing at Christmas time. Franz no longer felt so lonely; and as he saw the pleasure in Louise's face, when she returned, he laughed and joked with her about his presents, and, whether she liked it or not, she must receive his thanks, because he had recognized her voice.
Rika came in again, saying, "Frau Pastorin, they are all here."
"So? Then we will go out."
"No, dear Regina," said the Pastor, "let them come in."
"Oh, Pastor, they will bring in so much snow on their feet!"