Betty was well off in collars, and produced four. Then, unfastening the scarlet ribbon from around her waist, she seized her needle and thimble, and in five minutes had sewed the ribbon into a large and very presentable cravat, and proceeded to fringe out the ends. Aunt Tulip watched her with delighted eyes.
“Lord!” she said, “that chile will be tickled to death when he gits his Chris’mus stockin’. An’ you know, Miss Betty, I been thinkin’ that boy could be mighty useful at Holly Lodge, pickin’ up chips and carryin’ the wood upstairs and huntin’ up the turkeys.”
“I think so, too,” replied Betty, rolling up the cravat and the collars. “If he is any good, he could save you and Uncle Cesar a great many steps.”
Presently, Betty was in her little white bed for a short nap, because she could not think of not being up and dressed on Christmas morning, although she had danced twenty-five miles between eight o’clock in the evening and five in the morning. Aunt Tulip, too, took what she called her “cat nap,” and at eight o’clock on Christmas morning everything was awake and stirring at Holly Lodge.
CHAPTER VII
FORTESCUE AND ROSES AND BIRDSEYE
The Christmas sun was shining brilliantly, and it was not so desperately cold as the day before. Betty had hopes that the thin skim of snow would melt, so that the scent would lie for the fox-hunt the next morning. She ran downstairs as soon as she was dressed, and found the Colonel standing on the hearth-rug, his back to the fire, and his eyes turned resolutely away from Rosehill. Betty kissed him all over his face, and commanded him to be cheerful, as everybody should be on Christmas morning. Then Aunt Tulip and Uncle Cesar were called in for their simple gifts, and Kettle appeared with them, his clothes clean and respectable-looking. There was much talk between the Colonel and Uncle Cesar over Christmas days long past, and the Colonel, whatever his heart might be, carried out to the letter Betty’s injunction to be cheerful. As for Kettle, the sight of his Christmas stocking and his treasures, the collars and the gorgeous red cravat, and the magnificent prospect of a pair of new shoes, completely overwhelmed him. He could only look first at Betty and then at Aunt Tulip, and say to himself:
“This is the fust Chris’mus I ever see; the fust Chris’mus I ever see.”
“Didn’t you ever have a Christmas stocking before, Kettle?” asked Betty.