"It'll be a big one, before we get through with it," added her coadjutor. "Nobody'll be frightened here if you call it a big one to start with, Mrs. Seelye. I like to look things in the face."
"So do we," said Mrs. Armadale, with a kind of grim humour,—"if you will give us a chance."
"Well, it's about the children," said Mrs. Seelye.
"Christmas—" added Mrs. Marx.
"Be quiet, Anne," said her mother. "Go on, Mrs. Seelye. Whose children?"
"I might say, they are all Mr. Seelye's children," said the little lady, laughing; "and so they are in a way, as they are all belonging to his church. He feels he is responsible for the care of 'em, and he don't want to lose 'em. And that's what it's all about, and how the plan came up."
"How's he goin' to lose 'em?" Mrs. Armadale asked, beginning now to knit again.
"Well, you see the other church is makin' great efforts; and they're goin' to have a tree."
"What sort of a tree? and what do they want a tree for?"
"Why, a fir tree!"—and, "Why, a Christmas tree!" cried the two ladies who advocated the "plan," both in a breath.