“Oh, we got engaged by the correspondence-school plan,” Stacy informed her.
“The idea! Children like you two getting married,” objected Nora.
“Children? Huh! I’m twenty-three, and Emma—” Stacy shrugged his shoulders. “Well, let her speak for herself. Anything else—anyone got any questions to ask?”
“Yes,” spoke up Elfreda. “If I may do so without offense, I should like to know what you propose to do after you marry Emma?”
“Nothing!” with rising inflection in his voice. “I have money, my little wife will have more, and we two will live a life of distinguished and elegant leisure.”
“You poor turtle doves,” chortled Hippy Wingate.
The merry moments that followed failed to soothe the wakeful baby upstairs. After the excitement over the startling announcements had abated, Grace proposed that they dress the Christmas tree, and, following that, they danced for an hour, and the wonderful evening came to a close—for all except Stacy and Emma. The two strolled out on the snow-covered lawn of Haven Home, hand in hand, with the moon beaming down upon them, and a million diamonds sparkling at their feet.
“Stacy dear, do you remember that night up in the North Woods when the Overlanders were preparing to leave for home? Do you remember what Hippy asked me as a snowbird chirped high up in a great tree, just as one is now chirping in that apple tree yonder?” asked Emma.
“I remember,” nodded Stacy.
“Hippy asked me, ‘Emma, what is the little bird saying to-night?’ I answered, ‘He is wishing us all a merry, merry Christmas and a glad, happy new year.’ That is what the snowbird is saying to us from the old apple tree to-night, isn’t he, Stacy dear?”