Obediently the children sang and how they shouted when Dalton, who had disappeared during the singing, appeared as Santa Claus with a rosy-cheeked, white-bearded Santa Claus mask. There was no delay in presenting the gifts, in providing which some absent friends had a share.
It was much later, after the guests had gone, that Beth sat alone by the fire. Dalton, Leslie and Peggy had taken their skates to the lake. Beth felt a little lonely and was not in a mood to read. She was thinking of someone whom Tom Carey had promised to take in whenever he could get away for a trip to Maine. She was still thrilled over his last letter and she wondered if he had yet received her reply. The flames curled lazily around the last log that Dalton had put on before he left.
Unexpectedly, but appropriately to her thought, there came a little rap that Beth knew. “Oh,—why—” she said, as she opened the door quickly to a traveler in a big fur coat.
“I couldn’t help it, Beth,” said Evan Tudor, closing the door upon icy breezes, tossing off his thick gloves and taking both her hands. “Beth, dear, I have sold the ‘best seller’! It has just been accepted and I had to come on to make sure that I am, too. It’s Christmas Eve, Beth!”
“I didn’t make any conditions, did I, Evan, in my letter? I’m glad about the ‘best seller’—and—you needn’t worry about the rest. Oh, how wonderful to have you for Christmas!”
THE END