"Oh! oh! see the big bunches of white grapes and the raisins and the oranges and—and everything!"
"Yes, and all those boxes tied up in white paper with holly ribbon, and our names on them. Last year the tree wasn't half so splendid."
"You must thank Doctor Carlton for all the extra things," Sister Austin explained. "He is one of Santa Claus' helpers, you know; and besides many of the presents and good things, he brought with him the lights and the musical stand which have been used every year for Mary's tree."
The covers of their boxes from home had been loosened so that the children could remove them easily; and such ohs! and ahs! and cries of delight as filled the big room! There were two boxes for Mary, who could scarcely wait until her uncle had opened them. He first pried off the cover of the one bearing a foreign label; and with eager hands, the little girl unwrapped a beautiful, white marble statue of Our Lady of Lourdes, her mother's gift. Then came a small mosaic picture of her favorite Madonna and a blackeyed, dark-haired doll dressed in Italian costume, from her father; an album of Kodak pictures of the babies with a tiny card saying, "To our big sister from Berta and Beth;" a dear, little, white, knitted sack for Amelia Anabelle from Aunt Mandy; and a gay card from Tom. Two flat boxes for her uncle and aunt contained some fine large photographs of famous paintings and other gifts suitable for them.
The second box was filled with books and games which the Doctor had told Santa Claus to bring her. Nor had the little suitcase been forgotten; and opening it, Mary found a travelling case containing brush, comb, tooth and nail-brush holders, and all that she would need on the journey. A dear little prayer book from her aunt and holy pictures and medals from a number of the Sisters made her feel that she had fared very well indeed; and in spite of her great longing for the dear ones so far away, Christmas was a very happy day for her.
The greatest fun came just after supper when the sound of sleighbells outside the windows surprised the children. Presently, Mother Johanna herself ushered Santa Claus into the room—a dear, roly-poly, little old man, his hair and beard shining with frost. Effie and the younger children took refuge in the folds of Sister Austin's habit; but Mary, fearing that he might think he was not welcome, overcame her shyness, and running to him, caught his hand in both of hers and led him to the tree. The Doctor mounted a ladder, and beginning at the very top of the tree, handed Santa Claus the presents and good things which he, with funny little speeches, then presented to the children. But the tree was not stripped by any means. All the lights and tinsel and gay balls and other ornaments were left on it to delight the little folks during the holidays.
The happy day closed with Benediction, and Mary went to bed looking forward to her visit to Gene's home.
But when the Doctor came up from the chaplain's cottage the following morning, he told her that it had grown so much colder during the night that he really feared to take her with him. "It is ten below zero, and your poor little nose would be frozen during the long drive from the station to Mr. Donnelly's. I shall be back early."
At noon, however, Sister Madeline came to tell Mary that her uncle had just telephoned to say that Mr. Donnelly was far worse than he had expected to find him, and that they were preparing to take him to a hospital in the city.
"And——and won't Uncle come back here this evening, Aunt Mary?"