And so the real Christmas rang its joy-bells, passing over the King household as if such a thing as a holiday was never thought of.
Polly gave her presents to the girls of her set, and in every way she and the other members of the household kept up all the delights of the season, so far as it concerned people outside of their family. But when all the little and big white-papered gifts for her began to pour into the care of the butler who attended the door, they were carefully deposited in a little room off from the main hall, set apart for the purpose, there to lie untouched until "we have our real Christmas," she said.
And as it was arranged with Polly's gifts, so it was to be the order of proceedings in regard to the presents of every other member of the family; till the little room seemed fit to burst with richness, and even Hobson despaired of getting much more in.
"We'll have to get some other place, and that's true enough," he said to himself, with a sigh, and dumping down a huge box just left at the door.
Joel, racing along the hall at the sound of the arrival, panted, "What is it? Oh, Hobson, who is it for?" all in the same breath.
"Hold on, Master Joel!" cried Hobson, and feeling of his arm gingerly, after the eager pinch from Joel's fingers. "Well, it was for you, if you must know," he said irritably. "But you can't go in," twitching the door in alarm, and trying to turn the key.
"Oh! I will too; it was mine!" cried Joel, very hot and red faced, and struggling to squeeze by the portly figure of the butler. "You've no right to put me out," he fumed.
"Mrs. Whitney gave me this key," said the butler, puffing from his exertions to keep Joel off with one hand, and to adjust the implement in its lock with the other. "And I, O bless me," as it slipped from his fingers and jingled to the floor.
"There,—goody,—O jumbo!" exclaimed Joel, pouncing on it where it fell on the edge of the rug, then he slipped away from the big hand, and, prancing off, shook the key high in the air in derision. "Now I can go in whenever I like. Whoop it up! Yes-sir-ee!"
Hobson, beyond answering, made a dive in his direction, which Joel quickly eluded, and, the bell ringing again, there could be no further attempt to rescue the key, and Joel danced off, chuckling triumphantly. And hopping through the back drawing-room on a short cut across to the side hall, he rushed up almost into the face of a big figure sitting up in state on one of the high-backed carved chairs.