"It carries me back sixty-free years to my mother's knee," he said.
Mr. Thornton had come as soon as possible after the settlement of the new home and taken a delighted survey. He could scarcely have believed it to be the same, evidences of refined taste and deft fingers were everywhere.
"The most charming effect without exception that I ever saw in any house," he told his happy host, who took almost a childish pleasure in displaying his new possession, carrying his visitor at last in triumph to his own room and seating him in the arm-chair, with "Now did you ever see anything to equal this, even to the candlesticks and snuffer tray, all complete? This room does me more good than anything that has come to me in years."
And Mr. Thornton, looking into the old man's happy face, the firelight throwing a halo about his white hair; thanked God for money. His pleased eyes took in the fact, too, that the room remained unchanged in every particular, a tribute, he smilingly thought, to the taste of Mr. Hathaway.
[CHAPTER III.]
ON Christmas Day, while her grandfather was safe in his room taking his afternoon nap, Lily resolved to surprise him, as well as commemorate this wonderful Christmas. Bringing out her store of pressed ferns and autumn leaves, together with some evergreens she had supplied herself with, she turned the little house into a bower of beauty. Vines festooned the pictures, and vines of bright autumn leaves ran along the gray walls. Evergreens wreathed the doorways, and chrysanthemums bloomed out unexpectedly from everywhere. She prepared the table in spotless old damask and shining silver, for their six o'clock dinner—sumptuous repast, by the way, which was not often indulged in, these days.
When all was done she put on a dress that she did not often have occasion to wear in her workaday world—a white cashmere, her grandfather's favorite. She put roses in her hair and at her belt, for grandpa's favorite flower was a rose. Then trembling with delight at the success of her plans, she tinkled the little bell and waited for him. He, too, had made some little attempts at festivity; had exchanged his dressing-gown for his best black coat. And now when he came into the room, ablaze with light, with odors of heliotrope and roses in the air, and a lovely vision in white demurely waiting to receive him, sweeping a low courtesy with "A merry Christmas to you, sir; happy and oft this day return to thee," he rubbed his old eyes in amazement and thought time had gone back forty years. There were two lookers-on in this scene, Gretchen standing just inside the kitchen door, her face in a broad smile of delight, and a gentleman who was guilty of pausing just for a moment on the porch, taking advantage of a forgotten uplifted curtain to enjoy the exquisite picture. He murmured "Beautiful!" but whether it referred to the charming room, the faultless table, the lovely girl, or the grand old man, who can tell?
He came in presently, bearing a basket of rare fruits; oranges, white grapes and bananas, which he presented with a "Merry Christmas" to Mr. Winthrop.
"You have friends with you?" he said, glancing about him.
"Oh, no, indeed! My little girl got up all this festive appearance to please her old grandfather. If you would honor us so much, Mr. Thornton, what pleasure it would give us could you remain and take a seat at our table. A friend is the only article we lack to make our Christmas a happy one."