It was a typical Christmas day. There was even snow on the ground. The pretty limousine stood before the Hollisters’ door and a well-groomed good-looking chauffeur was taken in and presented to Mrs. Hollister, his future mistress. Grandmother, in her handsome new cloak, and Aunt Susan with Mr. Casey, took the first ride. Mr. Casey was in high spirits over Nora’s choice.
“Shure they till me that he has a great future.”
“Of course he has,” said Grandmother. “Why, he’s advanced to the operating room and he is in line to be second assisting surgeon. Think, Mr. Casey, of the lives he may save. I think Nora has made a wise choice, and he cared for her for herself—not for her money—for he’s always said that his wife’s money should be settled on herself—that only the husband should pay the bills. And Nora, dear child, has improved so. She’s grown so handsome and has a face full of character.”
“Thot’s so, ma’am. I would that her poor mother—God rest her soul—could but see her.”
“She does,” said Aunt Susan. “I firmly believe that our loved ones see us and are near us constantly. Wait a bit; I have to stop,” and Mr. Casey got out at a market.
“Now what is he up to?” said Grandmother. “Susan, he’s the kindest-hearted and most generous man that I ever knew.”
They could catch a glimpse of him now and then. Presently he emerged with an immense basket containing a large turkey, a pair of ducks, and paper bags of vegetables, and in one corner a smaller basket of delicious fruit and a couple of wreaths. From a card he read an address to the chauffeur, who placed the Christmas basket beside him.
“Now where is he going, I wonder?” said Aunt Susan. “Perhaps some of his poor relations.”
The chauffeur drove up before a cheap flat, alighted, and left the basket. Returning he nodded “yes” to Mr. Casey.
Mr. Casey said in a hesitating manner: