“I’ll tell you what,” said Katie, hurriedly, to avoid noticing Marion’s embarrassment, “we’ll go around to the Gorham to-morrow right after breakfast and change off that chatelaine for other things. I know you’re such a silly goose that you’d rather have a half-dozen trinkets to give away than this.”
It was worth something to see the pleasure in Marion’s face at this suggestion; but Lily did not give her time to say any thing, for she sprang up and gave Katie a hug and resounding kiss, with an emphatic declaration that she was the dearest girl that ever lived.
“And we’ll give her our votes for the Bellamy prize, wont we, though?” she said to Marion, as she resumed her seat.
Adèle came in then with a request from Mrs. Ashley that they would not fatigue themselves in their morning amusements, as she depended upon them to entertain her guests at her Christmas-tree from four to six in the afternoon.
The drawing-room was mysteriously closed; and when, at the appointed hour, the girls went in with Mrs. Ashley they found it greatly changed from the night before. The tree was equally well filled, but with gifts of a widely different character, and by its side and behind it stood tables strangely loaded. One was covered with stout shoes; another held a pyramid of bundles, each bearing a small placard. The third table, longer and wider than the others, was loaded with hats and caps.
The room was lighted with gas, which seemed to have a bewildering effect upon the twenty guests who now began to arrive. The sudden change from daylight, or else the splendor of the brilliant tree, made each girl as she entered rub her eyes and look helplessly about for an instant. They were the members of Mrs. Ashley’s class in the mission school, and every year she entertained them in this way.
Katie and Lily did their best to make the company feel at home; but perhaps there was a tiny bit of condescension in their efforts, for the girls seemed shy and afraid to converse; but with Marion it was different. She knew by her own experience how embarrassing it was to step from the surroundings of poverty into unaccustomed elegance, and the lessons she had learned made her know what to say to these shy, awkward strangers to make them feel comfortable and at home.
The guests were all gathered at last and seated where their eager eyes could feast upon the ever-fertile tree, as Lily called it. Then, from behind the portieres, appeared Santa Claus, smothered in furs. His long white beard indicated great age, but his agile and jerky method of skipping about contradicted the venerable effect. His pockets were puffed out and he carried a loaded pannier on his back.
Taking his station with his back to the mantel, Santa Claus waved his sealskin-gloved hands toward the company, saying, “Class, please to rise;” whereupon the guests all stood up, Katie and her friends also rising.
“If any one present,” continued Santa Claus, whisking up to the tree and back again to his place, “wishes a share in these gifts, will she kindly signify it by saying ‘I would?’”