decided that, for the present at least, she must give up coming home
every week, and must wait till the Christmas holidays before seeing
her family again. On the day she announced this she said also that
Mrs. Otway had said that Marian had stayed away long enough. Miss
Almira Belt was getting better and her sister could now help with
the sewing, especially as a niece was coming to help her, so as
Marian needed a new frock she must come home the following Monday
with Miss Dorothy. Mrs. Hunt had said she was longing for a sight of
her chickadee, Mr. Otway had remarked that it would be pleasant to
hear a child's voice in the house once again, and so Marian must go.
Patty was in tears at this news, and Marian herself looked very
sorry. "Don't you want to go?" asked Miss Dorothy. "Tippy and Dippy
are very anxious to see you and so is Rosamond. I saw her sitting in
your room all alone the other day, and she looked very forlorn."
Rosamond was Marian's big doll. "I told Ruth you were coming back,
and she said: 'Good, good. Give my love to her and tell her I am
crazy to see her. I've had the whooping-cough and I'm not a bit
afraid of her.' Then, too," Miss Dorothy bent her head and
whispered: "Some one who has the room next yours misses you
very much and longs for her little neighbor."
Marian smiled at this, but at sight of Patty's tears grew grave
again. "If I could take Patty with me," she said, "I should not mind
it a bit."
"Maybe Patty can come some time. Mrs. Hunt asked me to bring her and
to let her make a little visit there at her house, so we will think
of it later on."
This was so pleasant a prospect that Patty brightened up, and though
at parting she could not be comforted, Marian went away rather
happier than she expected. There would be some excitement in getting
back. She would go to see Mrs. Hunt very often, and perhaps Ruth
Deering would come to see her, or her grandmother would let her
spend an afternoon with Ruth sometimes. Mrs. Otway approved of Ruth,
she remembered. But here the thought of Patty came up, and Marian
realized that no one could take Patty's place, dear, bright, funny,
affectionate Patty, who had been so generous and loving, though she
did fly into a temper sometimes and say things she was sorry for
afterward. She had tried to help Marian with her writing and had
encouraged her so that now Marian could form her letters very well
and need not be ashamed when she went back to school. Then, too,
Patty had pressed upon her a favorite book of fairy tales which they
had read together and which had been the groundwork of many
delightful plays. Oh, no, there was nobody like Patty.
Yet as Marian walked with Miss Dorothy up the familiar street, she
felt that it was not bad to get back again. There was Mrs. Hunt
watching out for her at the gate, to give her a tremendous hug and
many kisses. There was Miss Hepzibah Toothacre, "pleasant as pie,"
at the door to welcome back the child. "Here she is," cried Heppy,
and from his study rushed grandpa, from the sitting-room issued
grandma, both eager to get to Marian first. "Heigho, heigho, little
girl," said grandpa, "it is good to get you back again."
"Well, my dear, how are you? Come kiss grandma," came from Mrs.
Otway, and Marian, pleased and surprised, felt that home was not
such a bad place after all.
Then there were Dippy and Tippy, and also a surprise, for Heppy
mysteriously led the way to the wood-shed which was just outside the
kitchen, and what should Marian see there but three new baby kittens
with Tippy proudly rubbing and purring around. Marian was on her
knees before them in a minute, and had picked out the prettiest to
cuddle. "Oh, if I might only keep this one," she said, "and perhaps
we could find homes for the others."
"I guess Mis' Otway ain't goin' to allow three cats under foot,"
said Heppy discouragingly. And indeed when Marian made her request
to keep one of the kittens she was straightway denied.
"You may keep two cats," said Mrs. Otway, "but no more will I have.
If you choose to get rid of one of the larger ones and keep the
little kitten I have no objection, but you will have to decide that
for yourself."
But here, as usual, Mrs. Hunt came to the rescue. "Now, chickadee,"
she said, when Marian told her the dilemma she was in, "you just let
me have that nice big gray cat of yours. Our house cat got so he
wouldn't live anywhere but in the stable, and grew so wild that I
scarcely ever saw him; finally he went away altogether. You bring
Dippy here and then you can see him as often as you want to."
Although Marian hated to give up Dippy, she knew he would have the
best of homes with Mrs. Hunt, and she did yearn so for the new
kitten that she finally decided to turn Dippy over to her good
friend. This seemed wise for more reasons than one, for his mother
was rather cross to him since her new family had arrived and so
Dippy settled down quite content to be petted and made much of by
Mrs. Hunt while Marian adopted the new kitten which she called Muff.
As Tippy's real name was Tippet, she thought Muff and Tippet went
rather well together. One of the other kittens found a home with
Ruth Deering, but the third was still unprovided for.
Lessons did not stop, although there was no Miss Emily to hear them.
Miss Dorothy told Marian every day what her class would have the
next, and Mrs. Otway heard her granddaughter recite whenever she
had time; when she did not, Miss Dorothy gave up a half hour in
the evening to the child, so she managed to keep abreast with her
schoolfellows and made great progress with her writing, now that
she had more time for practice, and since the weather housed her
more than formerly.
The photographs were sent off a good three weeks before Christmas,
and a duplicate set was made for the grans as well as one for Mrs.
Hunt. "For," said Marian, "if the grans don't care about Christmas
gifts, I do, and I like to give."
As for Miss Dorothy and Patty, Marian was at her wits' end to know
what to bestow upon them. She consulted Miss Dorothy as to Patty.
"Miss Dorothy," she said, "I shall be very unhappy if I can't give
Patty a Christmas gift, and I haven't a thing in the world she would
like."
Miss Dorothy, who was busy with some fancy work for Christmas, did
not reply for a moment and Marian could see that she had on her
thinking cap. "Yes, you have something," presently said Miss
Dorothy, "you have the third kitten."
"Oh, Miss Dorothy, do you think she would like him?"
"I am sure she would be delighted."
"But won't the dogs eat him up?"
"No, they're not allowed in the house and Jip is so intelligent that
she will understand that neither she nor her puppies must touch the
kitten."
"How will I get the kitten to her?"
"I can take it in a basket when I go home for the holidays."
"You always do what I hope you will," confessed Marian. "If all the
thank-yous I feel were piled up they would reach to the skies."
"I am sure," laughed Miss Dorothy, "nothing could express your
gratitude more perfectly. What shall you name the kitten? I think it
would please Patty if he came to her with a name already attached to
him, a name that you had given him."
Marian sat thinking, then she smiled and her smile grew broader and
broader till she broke out with: "I know what to call him; Prince
Puff, and I will tell her that he is the fat toad in a new form; he
is still under enchantment."
Miss Dorothy laughed, for she knew all about the play under the big
tree near the factory. "I think that would please Patty mightily,"
she told Marian.
"And, isn't it funny," Marian went on, "his name rhymes with Muff.
Patty will like that, too. She likes us to have things alike, so I
will have Muff and she will have Puff, Muff's brother. I am so
relieved to have Patty's present all settled."
But for her beloved Miss Dorothy there was still nothing, so Marian
racked her brains to devise some gift. At last she decided that
nothing was too good for one she loved so well, and that as the most
precious thing she possessed was her father's photograph she must
give that to her teacher. So, just before Miss Dorothy took her
departure for the holidays she went to her to slip a small package
in her hand. On the outside was written: "I am giving you this
because I love you so much. A Merry Christmas from Marian." "You
mustn't open it till Christmas day," she said earnestly.
"I will not," Miss Dorothy assured her. "Thank you now, dearie, for
I am sure whatever it is I shall be pleased to have it. I wish you
were going to spend the day with us."
"I wish so, too, but grandma said I had already been at Revell long
enough to wear out my welcome."
"I didn't see a sign of its being threadbare when you came away,"
Miss Dorothy told her. "Now, have we Puff all safe?"
"Yes, he is asleep in his basket. You won't forget to tie the card
around his neck with the red ribbon."
"No, I'll not forget. You must be sure to look on the inside knob of
my clothes-press door the first thing Christmas morning."
"I won't forget that. I think it is fine to have a secret waiting in
there for me."
"Here is the key. I know I can trust you not to open it till then."
"Indeed you can trust me."
"I am sure of it. Now give me a good hug and a kiss for Patty, for I
must be off."
Marian needed no second bidding, and in a few minutes was watching
Miss Dorothy go down the street carrying the basket that held Puff,
and walking swiftly to catch her train. There were big tears in
Marian's eyes as she turned from the window, for it seemed as if
the sunshine had faded away with Miss Dorothy's going, and that
Christmas would be only a gray every-day sort of time with no Patty
to make it merry, and no Miss Dorothy to add to its cheer.
However, when her grandmother called her it was to do rather an
interesting thing, for a Christmas box for the poor minister of a
distant parish was to be packed, and Marian enjoyed handing her
grandmother the articles to be put in and to talk over them. Grandma
knew the circumstances of the family to whom the box was going and
that there was a little girl somewhat younger than Marian to whom
her out-grown clothes would go. Marian thought she would have
enjoyed sending something more personal, and said so.
"Is there nothing you can make a sacrifice of, my child?" asked her
grandmother solemnly. "Christmas is the time for that, you know.
Our Lord gave His best to us and that is why we also give."
Marian turned over in her mind her various possessions. She simply
could not give up Patty Wee after all the dangers she had been
through, neither could she part with her big doll, for that had been
Annie Hunt's, and had been given to herself only because Annie's
mother was so fond of Ralph Otway's daughter. Muff was out of the
question for he would smother in that box. But there were the paper
dolls Miss Emily had made. She could give them. So she went
up-stairs, took out the envelope which contained these treasures,
softly kissed each painted face and said, "You are going to a new
home, my dears, and I hope you will like it. Good-bye, Mr. Guy
Mannering, good-bye, Mrs. Mannering, good-bye, little baby." She
put them all back in the envelope and carried it down-stairs. "I am
going to send these to Mary Eliza," she said steadily. "They are the
paper dolls Miss Emily made me."
"That is my good girl," said her grandmother. "Your gift will come
back to you in some other form, some day. I am much pleased that
my little granddaughter is so disposed to be generous with the
bounties the Lord has bestowed upon her." And Marian really felt
quite light-hearted the rest of the day.
Her spirits, too, were further lightened that afternoon when she was
made the special messenger to carry to Miss Almira Belt the very
lavender and white wrapper which she and Patty had picked out that
day when they were doing the make-believe shopping. Marian, of
course, told Mrs. Hunt all about it, and as one of the Guild which
looked after such things, it had been voted to give Miss Almira some
such present, and Mrs. Hunt had gone with Mrs. Perkins to select it.
They had all agreed that Marian's choice was such a good one that it
must be bought if possible, and fortunately Mrs. Hunt was able to
get the very wrapper she wanted. On account of Marian's part in the
matter she was asked to carry the gift to Miss Almira, and thus one
of her make-believes actually came true.
_CHAPTER XII_
_The Christmas Tree_
Christmas morning Marian awoke very early. She slipped out of bed
and went to the window. A few stars were still in the sky, though
the gray dawn was stealing up the land. In a few minutes the church
bells pealed out upon the wintry air. Marian folded her hands and
thought of the shepherds and the wise men, the little infant Jesus
in the manger and all the rest of the beautiful story. But it was
cold by the window and she determined to get back into bed till she
should be called. Then she suddenly remembered that this was "first
thing in the morning" and that she need not wait to open Miss
Dorothy's locked clothes-press. She could find out what was there.
So she softly struck a match, lighted her candle and tiptoed across
the floor, first taking the key from its place on the mantel. For a
moment a wild hope came to her that it might be a Christmas tree, a
little one, behind that locked door, but that idea faded away for
she remembered that Miss Dorothy had said, "I would like to set up a
Christmas tree for you, dearie, but it is your grandma's house and I
would not have the right to do it if she disapproves," and so it
could not possibly be a Christmas tree.
She set down her candle, unlocked the door and felt for what should
hang on the knob inside. As she did so she smothered a little cry
of delight for her hand grasped a well-filled stocking. Quickly
unfastening it, she skurried back to her room with the treasure. In
another moment she was snuggled down under the warm covers examining
the contents of her stocking. It held all the foolish and pleasant
things which such stockings usually hold, and to these were added
sundry little gifts. A note pinned on the outside read:
"DEAREST MARIAN:
"I hope you will like your stocking. It is exactly such as
Patty will have, and I know you will be pleased to have it
so. A Merry Christmas from all of us at Revell.
"Lovingly yours,
"DOROTHY ROBBINS."
A stocking just like Patty's! What joy! Perhaps at that very moment
Patty was looking at hers. It was so delightful to open the small
packages, to find a beautiful paper-doll from Miss Emily, a funny
cheap toy from each of the boys: a silly monkey, a quacking duck and
a jumping jack; a little fairy tale book from Patty, and oh, wonder!
the Roman sash from Miss Dorothy. Even Mr. Robbins and Aunt Barbara
had contributed, the former a little purse with a ten cent piece in
it, and the latter a box of her famous nut candy. Surely never was a
stocking more appreciated and more gloated over.
It was broad daylight and her grandmother was calling her before
Patty realized that her candle had burned down to its socket and
that it was time to get up. She huddled her gifts back into the
stocking and hurried to get bathed and dressed, for a day beginning
so delightfully must surely have more happiness in it. And indeed
this did seem to be so, for though her presents from her
grandparents were, as usual, useful, among them was a set of furs,
just what Marian had longed for since she saw Patty's, and there
was also a little typewriter for her very self from her grandpa.
Marian's mustard seeds were surely doing their work.
There were buckwheat cakes for breakfast, too, and Heppy beckoned
Marian to the kitchen afterward. A row of mince pies stood on the
table, and at the end of the row was a little scalloped one, "for
you," said Heppy. There was a pair of queerly shaped figures, too,
among the ginger-snaps. Heppy gave a funny chuckle as she picked
them out. "I guess nobody'd know what they're intended for," she
said. "I guess I won't go into the sculping business, for I find
I'm no hand at making figgers."
But Marian was as delighted with these as if they had been perfect
and bore them with the rest of her things to show Mrs. Hunt.
Her grans had smiled indulgently when she showed her stocking,
but had not seemed to think very much of it. Mrs. Otway said she
supposed Miss Dorothy had paid a pretty penny for the sash, and it
was more than she ought to have done. Mr. Otway thought Marian must
be too big a girl to care for jumping-jacks and such foolishness,
but that was the most that was said.
One of the events of Christmas day had always been the visit to
Mrs. Hunt, for this usually meant the best of the day's doings, and
Marian was always in a hurry to get off, but this time she was not
in such haste, for she liked to linger over her delightful stocking,
and enjoyed trying her typewriter while her grandfather showed her
how to use it. So it was not till her elders set out for church that
she was ready. Her cough shut her out of any churchgoing for a
while, but she begged to wear her new furs to show Mrs. Hunt, and
was given consent.
The church bells were all ringing as she entered Mrs. Hunt's door.
"I thought you wouldn't get here at all," said Mrs. Hunt in response
to Marian's "Merry Christmas!" "I was getting real anxious about
you. Come right in out of the cold. What made you so late,
chickadee?"
"Because it has been such a glad morning," Marian answered. "I don't
care anything about moving mountains any more, though it would have
been nice to have a tree, too."
"It would, would it? Well, I don't know. Is that for me?" as Marian
presented the book of photographs. "Well, I declare, isn't that you
all over? This is a Christmas gift worth having. What a Miss Dorothy
it is. Come, kiss me, dearie, you couldn't have given me anything I
like better. Now tell me what has made you so glad."
Then Marian displayed her stocking and her furs, and was describing
her typewriter when Mrs. Hunt said: "Then I suppose you won't care
about what I have for you."
"Oh, Auntie Hunt, you know I always care," returned Marian
reproachfully. "I never had a Christmas stocking before, and
I did so want furs."
"Bless her dear heart! Auntie Hunt was only teasing you a little.
Well, I don't believe what I have will wait much longer, so perhaps
we'd better go look at it." And she led the way to the parlor.
Marian wondered at this, for she was not such a stranger as to be
taken there even upon such a day as Christmas. What could Mrs. Hunt
have in there that she couldn't bring into the sitting-room? She had
always had Marian's present and her little basket of goodies set on
a side table and why must they be in the parlor to-day? She
wondered, too, why Mrs. Hunt fumbled at the door-knob and rattled
it a little before she went in, but when she saw at the end of the
room a bright and dazzling Christmas tree, she forgot all else. It
was such a glittering, shining affair, all wonderful ornaments and
gleaming tinsel, and was a joy to look upon, from the flying angel
at the tip-top to the group of sheep on a mossy pasture at the foot.
The impossible had happened. Faith and works had triumphed. The
might of the mustard seed's strength had been proved, and Marian
dropped on her knees before the marvelous vision. "Oh, I am so
happy, Lord. I am so much obliged to you for your loving-kindness,"
she breathed.
"That's just like her," said Mrs. Hunt nodding her head as if to
some one behind her. "You are pleased, aren't you, chickadee? Well,
now, who do you think gave you all those pretty things? Mr. Hunt cut
the tree and brought the moss, I'm ready to confess. I helped with
the trimming, but who did the rest?"
"Miss Dorothy," promptly replied Marian.
Mrs. Hunt shook her head. "Wrong guess," she said laughing. "Stand
right there and shut your eyes while I count ten, then see if you
can make a better guess."
Marian did as she was told, squeezing her eyes tight together lest
she should be tempted to peep at the tree. As "ten" fell from Mrs.
Hunt's lips her eyes opened, not upon the tree, for between her and
it stood the figure of a tall man who held out his arms to her.
Marian stood stock still in amazed wonder, gazing at him fixedly,
then in a voice that rang through the room she cried: "Papa! Papa!"
and in an instant his arms were around her and she was fairly
sobbing on his breast.
"It's almost more than the child can bear," murmured Mrs. Hunt
wiping her eyes. "I don't know that it was right to surprise her
so. Maybe it would have been better to prepare her." But Marian
was herself in a little while, ready to hear how this wonderful
thing happened.
"It was all on account of that little book of photographs," her
father told her. "My longing to see my dear little daughter grew
stronger and stronger as I turned over the pages, and when I came to
the last picture I simply could not stand it. I rushed out, looked
up the next sailing, and found I could make a steamer sailing from
Bremen the next morning, and before night I was on my way to that
city. I found I had a couple of hours to spare in Bremen, and I
remembered that my little girl had said that she had never had a
Christmas tree, so I went up town, bought a jumble of Christmas
toys, and took them to the steamer with me. I reached here last
night, and my dear old friend Mrs. Hunt took me in. Between us all
we set up the Christmas tree, and arranged the surprise. I felt as
if I could not spend another Christmas day away from my dear little
daughter when she wanted me so much. Do you think they will let me
in at the brick house, Marian?" he asked holding her close.
"I am sure they will," she answered with conviction. "I've found out
that nobody is as cross inside as they seem outside. Even Heppy is
just like a bear sometimes, but she has the most kind thinkings when
you get at them."
It was hard to leave the beautiful tree, but even that was not so
great and splendid a thing as this home-coming of Marian's father,
and when the churchgoers had all gone by, the two went up street
together, hand in hand. At the door of the brick house they paused.
"Tell them I am here and ask them if I may come in, Marian," said
her father, as he stood on the steps.
Marian went in, and entered the sitting-room. Her grandmother was
taking off her bonnet. "It was a good sermon, my dear," she was
saying to her husband. "Peace and good-will to all men, not to
some, but to all, our own first." She smoothed out her gloves
thoughtfully. "Eight years," she murmured, "eight years."
Marian stood in the doorway. "Papa has come," she said simply. "He
is on the door-step, but he won't come in till you say he may."
With a trembling little cry her grandmother ran to the door. Mr.
Otway grasped the back of the chair behind which he was standing.
His head was bowed and he was white to the lips. "Tell him to come
in," he said.
Marian ran out to see her grandmother, her grave, quiet, dignified
grandmother, sobbing in her son's arms, and he kissing her bowed
head and murmuring loving words to her.
"Grandpa says please come in," said Marian giving the message with
added politeness, and with one arm around his mother and the other
grasping Marian's hand, Ralph Otway entered his father's house to
meet the hand clasp of one who for more than eight years had
forbidden him entrance.
The remainder of Marian's day was spent in making visits to Mrs.
Hunt's parlor and to her grandmother's sitting-room. When the
grown-ups' talk began to grow uninteresting and herself unnoticed
she would slip away to gloat over the Christmas tree, then when she
had firmly fixed in her mind just what hung on this side and on
that, she would go back to the sitting-room to nestle down by her
father, or to turn over the contents of her stocking.
It was during this process that she heard part of a conversation
which interested her very much. "Herbert Robbins wrote me not
long ago to ask if I could suggest a fitting man for one of the
engineering departments of the college," said Grandpa Otway. "I told
him I would consider the matter, and if any one occurred to me I
would let him know. How would you like the work, Ralph?" he went on
in his measured tones. "Revell is not far away; it is a progressive
college in a pleasant community."
Marian laid down her stocking and came nearer.
"I should like to look into the matter," said her father
thoughtfully.
"I would advise your seeing Robbins," said his father. "He can give
you the particulars." Then he added somewhat hesitatingly, "I should
like--I should be pleased to have my son one of the faculty of my
own college."
Marian's father looked up brightly. "Thank you, father; that settles
it. If it is as good a thing as now appears I shall not hesitate to
accept if I am given the opportunity."
"Are you going to see Patty?" whispered Marian, "and couldn't I go,
too?"
Her father looked down at her with a smile. "I'd like you to go if
your grandmother is willing."
Therefore before the holidays were over Marian had the pleasure of
showing off her new furs as well as her dear papa to Patty and the
rest of the Robbinses, and before she came back it was settled that
her father was to go to Revell to live. Beyond that nothing of much
consequence was decided at that time.