“Oh, yes; in that sort of a way, I know it would be naughty not to care for it,” said Norna, looking a little ashamed. “But it’s different when you’ve lived in England, I suppose. Mamma has told us stories of Christmas when she was little, that sounded very nice—all about carols, and lots of cousins playing together, and presents, and school feasts. But we haven’t any cousins to play with. Had you, Miss Meadows, at your own home?”
Miss Meadows’ eyes looked rather odd for a moment. She turned away for half an instant and then she seemed all right again.
“I had lots of brothers and sisters,” she said, “and that’s even better than cousins.”
It was her first Christmas away from home, and she had only been a few days with Norna and Ivy.
“I wish we had!” sighed Norna, who always wanted what she had not got.
“But surely there are some things you can have that would cheer you up,” said Miss Meadows. “Perhaps it is too soon to settle about school feasts just yet, but have you no presents to get ready for any one?”
“No,” sighed Ivy. “Mamma has everything she wants; and so have we. It’s rubbish giving each other presents just to say they’re presents.”
“Yes,” said Miss Meadows. “I think it is. But—”
She said no more, for just then Ivy touched her, and whispered softly,—
“I do believe there’s a real little robin redbreast. Don’t let’s frighten him away.”