"I told you so, mother!" said Abby in a whisper. "I knew Aunt Sally would not like it. It looks just as if we were trying to outshine Cousin Amber and Ethel."
If such were the case, neither Cousin Amber nor Ethel was disturbed at it. Ethel was fast learning wisdom by the things she suffered, and was in fair way of becoming as philosophical as could reasonably be expected of a little girl of twelve years old.
"Well, we are all here at last," said Mrs. Bertie finally, after she had smoothed her ruffled plumes a little. "Now, Mr. Simonton, do your part."
Mr. Simonton smiled, rubbed his hands, bowed his old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Bertie, and glided from the room, and the company looked at each other, while Mrs. Bertie stood fanning herself in silence. It was evident that something rather unusual was going on.
There was a trampling of little feet on the basement stairs, and in the closed back parlor, then a sudden cessation of noise, and finally a score of childish voices led by Mr. Simonton raised the glorious old-fashioned Gloria in Excelsis. At the same moment the folding doors were thrown open, and the eyes of the guests were greeted by an unexpected sight. Two beautiful Christmas trees blazed with colored lights and sugar ornaments, while around the larger one were grouped some twenty little children, rather poorly dressed, but all evidently in the highest spirits, and full of smiles at seeing Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, who on their part felt as if in a dream, as they recognized the familiar faces of their Sunday scholars.
Good Mr. Simonton rubbed his hands and brushed up his spruce gray whiskers, singing all the while in his splendid tenor voice, just as he did when he led the children in Sunday-school.
THE CHRISTMAS TREE
"There, nephew and niece Fletcher," said Mrs. Bertie, sweeping up to the table when the anthem was finished, and laying her withered hand glittering with diamonds upon the head of the nearest child; "this is your Christmas present. I felt sure that neither of you would enjoy your Christmas unless you had a parcel of poor children round you: so knowing Mr. Simonton to be superintendent of your Sunday-school, I employed him to collect these little folks together to meet you this evening."
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Aunt Sally," said Mr. Fletcher as soon as he could find his voice. "Nothing in the world could have given me greater pleasure. The thought of being no longer able to do any thing for these little ones, has been one of the bitterest things I have experienced in all my reverses. I hope—"