“And”—when the first course was over—“I have another pleasure in store for you.”
“That is——”
“See!” Shian introduced a little Christmas tree, manufactured out of a branch of fir, and to it were hung two—just two—articles: a cap lined with swansdown, and trimmed with cherry ribbons, and a long pair of newly-knitted stockings. “There,” said Shian, “for baby and you—your Christmas presents. I bring it now, whilst he is awake, that he may enjoy it with us.”
“Well,” gasped Shone, “this is delightful! How lovely the child will look in such a glorious bonnet. And how warm my legs will be in these beautiful stockings.”
“That is not all,” said Shian.
“What more can there be?”
“This!” And she dished up a real Christmas plum-pudding.
When Shone saw this the tears came into his eyes.
“Why, Shian!” he said, and felt a pinch of the heart, “you have thought for every one but yourself!”
“No, no, father,” said she. “I have had some of the goose, and shall of the plum-pudding.”