"Didn't you?" said Phronsie, much disappointed.
"Well, now we ought to go over and see what Grandpapa wants," said Mr. Dyce, catching sight of the old gentleman's face.
"And there are such a many presents for you," said Phronsie, in a happy little tone, and patting the broad back.
"You don't say so!" cried Mr. Dyce.
"Yes, oh, such a many; do hurry and get them," gurgled Phronsie, as off he pranced with her on his shoulder.
Presents? Well, if Mr. Hamilton Dyce had many, what can be said of the gifts that had been rained down on all sides for every one else in the big room! And the best of it all was that each one seemed to think that nothing ever could be happier, as a selection of gifts, and that no Santa Claus who would understand them better, could by any means have visited them.
"But I like this best," said Matthew, and he laid his hand on the red woollen tippet.
Ben and he happened to be alone in a corner. "Do you, though?" said Ben, his eyes lighting.
"Yes, I've always wanted one," said Matthew.