In came four sprightly clowns, chalked and patched, clad in spots and spangles, dancing like mad and grinning from ear to ear. Whirling around the table, dodging the stove, vaulting the empty chairs, they stopped at last to deposit in a heap upon the floor a whopping pile of parcels and bundles, the topmost being a huge box of American Beauty roses. Almost before the wide-eyed, gaping youngsters could realise what had happened, the motley quartette vanished into the outer hall, the door banged to behind them and Mr. Flanders was shouting:
"How's that for high? Eh? That's the way we do things up at Forty-second Street. What have you got to say now, Mr. Bingle, on this Merry Christmas Eve?"
Mr. Bingle, quite as excited as any of the shouting children, sat down very suddenly in his chair at the head of the table.
"Sit down, Dick, and you, Amy, and—and have something to eat. I—I—" He stopped short, realising that he did not know what he was saying, but vaguely hospitable in spite of himself. Then his arm went up to cover his eyes.
"We haven't time," began Flanders, but caught a warning look from his pretty wife.
"We will have dessert and coffee with you, Mr. Bingle," she said, coming over to lay her hand upon his arm.
"Tha—that's fine," gulped Mr. Bingle with a mighty and partially successful effort to regain control of his flitting senses. And it was some time after that before he could trust himself to join in the merry, excited chatter. He kept on repeating "God bless my soul," in response to nearly every remark that was directed to him.
"You are not to open a single package until after we are gone," commanded Amy Colgate later on, confronting the eager, covetous children as she arose from the trunk which served as a chair for both herself and Mr. Bingle in Diggs's hasty readjustment of the seats at table. "The roses are for you, dear Mr. Bingle, with my love—my real love. I know that you will take them to Mrs. Bingle to-morrow, but they are for you to-night. Give her my love and wish her a Merry, Merry Christmas from Dick and me. Please God she may soon come back to you and be as she used to be." She peered intently, questioningly into his glistening eyes, and then put her arm suddenly around his neck and cried softly in his ear: "Oh, you dear, dear old goose!"
"Where is Melissa?" whispered Flanders to Diggs as that functionary was helping him into his greatcoat.
"Almost on your very 'eels, sir," said Diggs, as nervous as any one else.