Marian's angel smiled as he lit his evening pipe.
"And they were just grumbling," he said, "because they never had any adventures. What do you suppose will happen when the guests have assembled?"
But Cuthbert's angel shook his head.
"That's hard to tell," he said. "There's no precedent. Not since the Great Day has a tree of that line ever been used as a children's Christmas tree."
The rain had stopped by then and the moon was shining, and soon after midnight the thermometer fell. A hoar frost crept over the roof-tops. The sun's rim rose out of a well of vapour. At eleven o'clock Cuthbert went to play football, and Marian and Doris went to see Gwendolen.
The sun had climbed free by then, but the wind was in the north, and as the day went on the frost deepened. During the afternoon the children went to some friends' houses to borrow chairs for the party. When they came back Mummy was stooping over the Christmas-tree, fixing candles to its slender twigs. In her eyes there was a curious look. Cuthbert kissed her and asked her what was the matter.
"Nothing," said Mummy, "but wouldn't it be wonderful if what Jacob said about this tree were true?"
Marian bent her lips to one of the leaves.
"I believe it is," she said. "It makes me feel funny."
Old Mother Hubbard was the first guest to come, and she brought a hamper with her full of presents. Some of them were new, but some of them were trinkets that she had kept ever since she was a girl.