At one of the gifts Happie looked gloomy. Margery had received by mail a dear little soft leather book of sonnets, and it seemed to Happie that she stroked it as she handled it. Now, even an enthusiastic book-lover hardly pets his books, and so it seemed to Happie to argue—however, this was Christmas eve, and good will to man must include, by an effort, Robert Gaston.
A messenger brought a packet from Miss Bradbury. Mrs. Scollard signed for it, and came back with it to her children. "From Aunt Keren!" she said.
Margery opened it, being the eldest. It contained six mistletoe lace pins of green enamel and pearls, beautiful pins in design and workmanship. They held the holly-red ribbon around a long envelope addressed to "The Six Tea Maidens." When this envelope was torn open by Happie it proved to contain the receipt for six months' rent of the tea room! Kind Aunt Keren, who went about regardless of fashion, yet did so much for others in her abrupt way!
A scarf pin in its own white box, for Bob, was a slender circle of olivines, their green tint exquisite against the white satin.
"For my all-round man, gardener, coachman, farmer and guardian in last summer's green fields," the card said.
Mrs. Scollard silently held up a little book and a piece of yellow lace.
"My mother's little hymn book, and dear Miss Keren's own mother's lace," she said, as she read a brief note and laid it inside the book.
There were many small gifts from friends. Happie's three E's, Edith, Elsie and Eleanor, remembered her—Laura looked as though she found it hard to be the third girl, and not as rich in friends as the two older ones. But Gretta's face was a study as she handled first one and then another of her gifts. It was her first experience of a home Christmas, and it bewildered her with a sense of its sweetness.
"I wonder how Rosie likes her box?" she said, looking up. Rosie Gruber, left in charge of the Ark, had not been forgotten. Miss Bradbury and the Scollards had sent her up such a provision for the feast as would be the talk of the township for days.
"Think of Eunice and Reba sitting all alone to-night, after scolding each other all day it's likely! No wonder they are cross!" said Gretta, with a sudden pity for the two women who had embittered her childhood springing from the warmth of her present happiness.