Chapter XX--Christmas Fun
Aunt Penelope was right--the day before Christmas was an awful day for hurry. Everyone simply flew, and almost every six seconds Amy would come in to tell of someone she’d forgotten to remember, Ito would appear to say that someone was wanted by someone at the telephone, and Evelyn would say: “Another pot of poinsettias and ferns. Where shall I tell Jane to put it?” There were lots of roses too, and they made the whole place fragrant and beautiful.
In the hall there were millions of packages, unopened cards on a tray, and messenger boys waiting for someone to sign their books. I loved it all, and having Uncle Frank there made it perfect. He kept wandering around saying “Ho hum” and hunting his spectacles, which had all gradually climbed up on his forehead. And he gave the touch of home that I had needed. It is curious, but I have found that you never realize how very much you have missed anyone until you have them near again and don’t miss them.
Lunch was a hurried affair, but at this meal Aunt Penelope became coherent long enough to suggest that I ask Mr. Kempwood up for the celebration and opening of presents, which was to be at eight o’clock, after an early dinner. I said I would love to, and I immediately telephoned him about it, and asked if he would take Uncle Frank that afternoon too. He said he would be charmed to do so, and at five we started for a drive.
Going was great fun, for there was so much excitement. All the shop windows were blazing, and people seemed happy. They always do at Christmas-time; I think even mean spirits warm up and stop refrigerating anything they touch after December twenty-third. But, unfortunately, they begin being mean again about January third or fourth. I have always had the feeling that perhaps the Christmas bills made their pessimism return, for bills are depressing to even a constitutionally happy individual.
But, to get on, we had tea, and I made mine a little heavy, because I really hadn’t had much lunch, and altogether enjoyed myself. Uncle Frank and S. K. got along beautifully and did most of the talking. Because I was hungry, I occupied myself with eating and listening.
“Doubtless that young person will take you to the Jumel Mansion,” said S. K., with a nod toward me and a smile for me.
Uncle Frank nodded.
“Audubon lived near here,” he said after he stood up and slipped out of his coat. “Wonderful man, ho hum.”
“Yes,” agreed S. K., and then slowly smiled, and as if he couldn’t help it. I do too, for Uncle Frank had a string of tinsel tied around his collar and under his chin in a great bow.