“Crickey! so do I,” agreed Marty. “I bet he could tell us something interesting.”
“Better than Walky’s bear stories?” laughed Nelson.
There was a little silence. The wind sounded as though it were choking to death in the chimney. Aunt ’Mira sighed.
“I do hope there’s nobody out in this storm,” she said. “We got lots o’ marcies to be thankful for.”
“We have that!” agreed her husband. “This is a pretty good Christmas.”
Janice smiled as she bent to thread her needle. Her mind had flashed back to the many, many complaining comments that had fallen from the lips of her uncle and aunt when first she had come to live with them. How their circumstances and outlook on life had changed!
“And they have done it all themselves,” she murmured. “Only—they don’t know it!”
Nelson was watching her. Her nimble fingers played a pretty dance among the colored silks. She looked up to see him watching her, and her countenance was immediately glorified.
“Crickey!” drawled Marty, not understanding, “Janice is gittin’ prettier and prettier all the while.”
“That’s worth a Christmas present, sure enough, Marty,” she told him, laughing happily.