Any further argument was interrupted at this point by the appearance of an immense bundle of evergreen at one of the windows, entirely blocking up its small, frosty panes. Presently an honest and merry face showed itself down at one corner.
“It’s Tom, with more green!” cried the two Ralston girls, jumping up and running to the porch door to let in the big brother.
Charity stayed behind with grandmother, but Tom’s eyes found her in a twinkling. How demurely she sat there, tying away with all her might, while the awkward fellow made a great to-do piling up his load beside her, and managed to get hold of somebody’s hand down among the princess-pines, and—then something happened behind grandmother’s back that made somebody’s fresh young cheeks pinker than ever.
“Tom, Tom!” cried Charity, shaking her head as soberly as if she hadn’t been the cause of his mischief.
“Yes, ma’am,” answered innocent Tom. “Want some more?”
“Now, Tom, if you’re really going to stay you must work in good earnest. Just pick out some good long strings of ‘creeping Jenny’ and lay them right beside me—so!”
Thereupon Tom, great, breezy, good-natured Tom, doubled himself up on the floor, boots and all, and pretended to immerse himself, body and mind, in the complicated task assigned him, meanwhile blundering in the most absurd manner, and continually mistaking that bewildering little hand for the delicate vines, and at the same time winking at grandmother, thereby confusing her and making her feel that she was an accomplice; and in fact conducting himself altogether so outrageously that the girls ended by pelting him with evergreens until he escaped to the woodshed, where the ringing blows of his axe soon gave notice that he was making ready for the blaze in the great fireplace that was to brighten the long winter evening before them.
Charity was the daughter of a neighbor. She and Tom Ralston had played together since they were babies; then, leaving the district school, and entering upon the heavier duties of life, they had grown bashful, and kept away from each other just long enough to find out that they could not possibly do so any longer. So they were engaged, to the quiet satisfaction of both families. The marriage was to be on New Year’s and the young folks were working hard on their evergreen trimming, which Tom had promised to take up to the city, a dozen miles away, and sell for them, the day before Christmas. Charity was to go with him, as she had a few little purchases to make; and besides, she had never seen the city at this “holiday season,” when it is at its merriest.
Swiftly the full, busy days flew by. The evening before they were to start, Tom was walking home with Charity. As they reached the little plot of ground before her house they looked up into the starlit, moonlit sky. At least Charity did. I am afraid Tom was finding moon and stars and no end of things more precious to him in the grave brown eyes so near his own.