CHRISTMAS
"This is to be a German Christmas," Miss Blake said, "and we're going
to celebrate it on Christmas eve. Of all the different customs I've
seen I like the German the best. It is so jolly and freundlich, as
they say over there."
So on Christmas eve the library doors were thrown open for the first
time in days and days, and there stood the most glorious tree that Nan
had ever seen. It was decked out with a hundred glistening things and
laden down with red apples, yellow oranges, and pounds and pounds of
peppermint candy, and barley-sugar figures, pretty to see and delicious
to eat, to say nothing of Marzipan, to which the girl was introduced
for the first time, and which she found altogether fascinating.
Innumerable candles burned gayly among the spreading boughs, and at the
very top hovered an angel with outspread, shimmering wings, her hands
bearing a garland of glistening tinsel, and her garments ablaze with
gold and silver decoration. Grown girl as she was, Nan was delighted.
It was all so new and strange; so different from anything she had ever
experienced before.
Beside the tree were tables spread with white cloths, and upon these
lay the presents, and wonderful presents they proved. Miss Blake and
Delia had outdone themselves, and Nan's table was a sight to behold.
It seemed to her it held everything she had ever expressed a wish
for--except a bicycle, of course.
A pocket-kodak from Miss Blake, a banjo from her father, skates from
Delia, she had longed for just such a new pair, and innumerable other
articles bearing no giver's name, but coming, every one, from the same
generous source Nan knew well enough. She absolutely lost her head in
the delight of possessing such an array of treasures.
Her own little offerings seemed to her poor and mean in comparison with
this display; but Miss Blake's eyes actually filled with grateful tears
at the sight of the half-dozen linen handkerchiefs the girl had marked
for her with so much trouble and at the cost of so many hours of
recreation, and Delia hugged her rapturously at the sight of the
gorgeous dress-pattern that Nan had selected for her "all alone by
herself," and that had come out of the saving of more than a
half-year's allowance of precious pocket-money.
"Now, Nan!" said Miss Blake, when the first excitement had somewhat
subsided, "there is one more surprise that Delia and Mr. Turner and I
have planned for you, and as I expect it to arrive at any moment now,
and as it is pretty big I want you to help clear away these tables to
give it lots of room to move about in. We want to get everything out
of the way and all the presents safely stowed aside upstairs so nothing
will be broken. While we are going back and forth you may guess what
it is, if you like."
"A bicycle?" ventured Nan, striding upstairs with her kodak in one arm
and a bundle of books in the other.
"No, it's not a bicycle. Guess again. I'll give you two more,"
answered the governess, following after her with her load.
"I know what I want next to a bicycle."
"What?"
"I don't like to say."
"Why?"
"Well, you know," hesitated the girl, "if I said what it was, and if
what you've got turned out something different, you might feel
disappointed because you might think I did."
Miss Blake smiled. "That's a generous thought, Nan," she said; "but I
give you free leave to speak out."
Even now the girl hesitated, and stood awkwardly balancing herself
against the baluster-rail. "Even if you wanted to you couldn't give it
to me," she blurted out, at length.
"Why?" repeated Miss Blake.
"Because--oh, because--it wouldn't come," she cried, with a rueful
laugh.
"Now that sounds ominous," exclaimed the governess, as she and Nan
started on their last trip. "It sounds as if you wanted a horse, or
something of that sort, that might prove balky."
"No, it isn't a horse. But it's balky enough, if that's all."
"Then tell me why it wouldn't come?"
Nan let her armful of gifts fall on her counterpane in a heap. "Oh,
because--because--its mothers don't approve of me. What I want is a
party, so there! and I couldn't have one because, even if my father
could afford it, no one would come. Grace Ellis wouldn't, nor Mary
Brewster, nor any of those girls I'd want. They turn up their noses at
me because they think I don't know how to behave. Once Louie Hawes
spoke to me and I liked her, but the next time I saw her she looked the
other way, and I suppose some one had told her something she didn't
approve of. So she wouldn't come either--no matter how much I asked
her, and of course I wouldn't ask her at all. Mrs. Andrews up the
street asked me to Ruth's party last winter, but I heard their girl
tell Delia that she did it because she had known my mother and felt
obliged to, so I wouldn't go. I couldn't after that, you know. I did
go to the Buckstone twins' party, but all the other girls got off in
corners and laughed and talked, and I was left out and had to shift for
myself. So I went and talked to John Gardiner and Harley Morris and
those, and of course we got on first-rate--we always do, for if I can't
dance I can skate, and the boys got me to promise I'd go with them the
next good ice, and we got talking about other things, and I never
thought anything about the girls any more until Mrs. Buckstone came up
and said, 'I'm sorry, my dear, to break up this pleasant group, but we
can't permit you to monopolize our young gentlemen. The rest of the
young ladies are waiting for partners.' Then I knew I had got myself
into a scrape, for Mrs. Buckstone was dreadfully icy and the girls were
furious. So you see no one would come."
Miss Blake caught up a stray lock of hair at the girl's temple and
tucked it back into place, smoothed the ribbon upon her "best dress"
collar, and said tenderly:
"Well, that will all be made right to-night, I guess. Come, take my
hand, and let's fly down stairs, and be ready to receive, for you've
got your wish--there's the bell!--and your party is coming in."
They met the first comers on the stairs, and had to hurry past them to
avoid getting caught by a second installment. After that the guests
came quick and fast, and Nan had all she could do to welcome them and
wonder dimly in between how things were to be started, so that
everybody should have a good time.
But, bless you! She might have saved herself the trouble, for Miss
Blake simply set things going without any bother at all, and before Nan
realized what was happening, she saw the governess and big John
Gardiner leading in a lively game, while the music of a piano and some
violins, which were hidden away out of sight, fell upon her delighted
ear. She followed the sound, and it took her to the glass extension,
which, to her astonishment, was all alight, and fragrant with flowering
plants and towering palms. The "old trunks and things" that had
littered the place were gone, and in their stead was all this soft
greenness and bloom, while from above hung graceful lanterns, sending
out a tender light that made the leaves look shadowy and waxen, and
gave the spot a peculiar air of mystery and grace.
She found Louie Hawes and Ruth Andrews hidden away in a snug corner
behind a screening rubber-tree. They were apparently deep in
conversation when she came up, but at sight of her they fell suddenly
silent and looked embarrassed and ill at ease. For a moment Nan was at
a loss what to do. Then, all at once, Miss Blake's rule for etiquette
flashed across her mind:
"When you don't know how to act, Nan, do something honest and kind, and
that will be sure to be right."
She told herself that perhaps after all, the girls had not been talking
about her, and said to them pleasantly:
"Do you like it away back here? It's rather out of the way of the
games; but don't you want to play?"
"Oh, yes; by and by," stammered Ruth, awkwardly. "It's awfully pretty
in this conservatory, and Lu and I got in here and couldn't get away.
One wants to sit still and just enjoy it. I think I never saw such
dainty lanterns."
The conversation seemed on the point of coming to a standstill, but Nan
plunged in again, her sense of being hostess spurring her on.
"I guess they're some Miss Blake brought with her from China, or
somewhere. She has been around the world, and has collected any number
of beautiful things. Some of them are perfectly fine."
"Oh, I think she herself is one of the loveliest things!" cried Ruth,
enthusiastically. "She has a darling face. One wants to kiss her,
she's so dear!"
"Mamma says she used to know her years ago at school," said Louie.
"She says she is one of the finest characters she knows. She was
delighted to have me come when Miss Blake asked me to your party."
"Yes, it was awfully nice of you to think of us," put in Ruth,
laboriously.
Again the conversation threatened to flag. But here was Nan's
opportunity to do something honest, and she did it.
"Oh, don't thank me. I didn't think of you," she returned bluntly;
"that is, I didn't know anything at all about the party myself until a
little while ago. Miss Blake did it all. I don't know how in the
world she ever happened to ask just the ones I wanted, though."
Ruth and Louie exchanged glances. Then they laughed.
"Well, if you didn't think of us," they said, "you wanted us, so it's
nice of you all the same."
That broke the ice, and it wasn't five minutes before all three were
sitting together and chatting as comfortably as if they had been on the
most intimate terms of friendship for years, and it was only Nan's
sense of her responsibility as hostess that dragged her away at last.
"Miss Blake will wonder where we are. Won't you come into the other
room? Besides you can't enjoy being cooped up in this little corner
when the fun is going on outside."
"Oh, but we do enjoy it!" protested Ruth. "It's giving us a chance to
get acquainted with you. And we want you to promise us that you'll go
skating with us day after to-morrow. Please do!"
"Of course we know how you skate," declared Louie, "and we'll be so
proud to have such a champion in our club. Say you'll come! And don't
hold it against us that we haven't asked you before."
Nan's heart leaped. "Why, I'll love to," she said with a frankness
equal to Louie's own, adding in a tone quite new to her, "if Miss Blake
will let me."
Grace Ellis and Mary Brewster lifted their eyebrows in surprise as the
three girls appeared in the doorway, chatting so intimately and being
so plainly on the best of terms.
"Dear me!" whispered Grace, "what's come over Lu and Ruth? They
actually look as if they liked her."
"Don't you believe it," declared Mary sourly. "They're here at her
party and they can't exactly shove her off in her own house, but it
will be 'for one night only.' Now you see! They won't want her around
now any more than they have before--a rowdyish thing like that."
She had scarcely replaced her bitter expression by one more suited to
the time and place when Louie came over to where they were, her face
wreathed in smiles, and her arm flung impulsively around Nan's waist.
"O girls!" she cried. "Isn't it nice? Ruth and I have made Nan
promise that she'll come skating with us day after to-morrow, and she's
going to join the club. Won't it put a feather in our cap to have such
a member?"
Mary knit her brows and Grace smiled icily.
"Very nice," they responded coldly.
Nan's eyes flashed, and then suddenly lowered. "Oh! I didn't give a
definite promise," she returned quietly, and with unexpected dignity.
"I said if Miss Blake would let me. I'm afraid she won't. I hurt my
ankle not long ago, and I haven't dared exercise it much since.
Probably Miss Blake will think I ought to save it for a while yet."
"But you were out on Saturday," protested Ruth. "I saw you. Your
ankle is only an excuse. You skate so easily, it couldn't be a strain."
Grace looked at Mary with a curious expression in her eyes, but neither
of them added her voice to the other girls' solicitations, and the
little group stood there in what threatened to become a painful silence
when Nan felt a light touch on her shoulder, and, turning around,
discovered Miss Blake standing at her elbow.
"O Nan!" she said, smiling brightly at the other girls, as if to excuse
herself for not including them in her familiarity, "won't you please go
and see if you can't entertain that poor young Joe Tracy? I've done my
best, but he won't come out of his shell for all I can do, and I think
your hearty, breezy way is just what he needs. He looks so forlorn,
tucked away 'all alone by himself,' as you would say."
She patted the girl affectionately on the shoulder as she sent her on
her way, saying heartily, as she passed out of ear-shot: "I always feel
perfectly secure when I can fall back on Nan to help me out with shy,
sensitive people. She has such a great, warm heart that it seems to
thaw their stiffness right out of them."
Louie threw her arm impulsively about the governess' waist:
"You're such a dear!" she cried, demonstratively; "and I'm over and
over obliged to you for letting me come here and get acquainted with
Nan. I think she is ever so nice, and it's a shame that we haven't
known each other before."
Miss Blake gave the girl a hearty smile.
"Better late than never," she returned gayly.
Grace Ellis reddened and Mary Brewster tilted her chin superciliously,
but they both turned their eyes suddenly in the direction of the other
end of the room as Ruth Andrews grasped Miss Blake's arm, and whispered
excitedly:
"For goodness' sake, do look over there! Nan has got Joe Tracy
laughing already."
Sure enough, the lad's pale, sensitive face was all aglow, and, as he
listened to what the girl was saying, his eyes brightened and his mouth
danced up at the corners in a laugh of genuine appreciation. Nan was
gesticulating in her own graphic fashion, and the girls could easily
follow her by watching her expression and her vivid pantomime.
Plainly she was describing the sleight-of-hand performance to her
bashful friend, and Miss Blake could readily see that she was not
sparing herself in the recital.
She raised her hands to her head and pretended to take off her hat,
which she made a show of reluctantly surrendering to some one who
received it with a profound bow. Then she suddenly leaned forward, as
if stumbling on something, and the next moment she held up her hand and
seemed to be regarding some article upon it with an exaggeratedly
doleful expression that was such an exact imitation of the renowned
wizard's that Miss Blake recognized it at once, and laughed as heartily
as Joe Tracy himself. By this time the girls were thoroughly
interested, and kept their eyes fixed on Nan so that they might not
lose one gesture nor the slightest change of expression.
"O dear! Those Buckstone girls! Why do they get in my way," lamented
Louie Hawes, "I wish they wouldn't crowd round her so. First thing
they know she'll notice them, and stop short off and won't tell any
more."
"Hush, Lu! There go John Gardiner and Harley Morris!"
But Nan was in full swing now, and too absorbed in her story to be
aware of the little court that had gathered around her. Joe Tracy's
eyes followed her every movement with greedy interest, and when she at
length imitated the flapping wings of the clucking hen he simply
shouted with laughter and clapped his hands vigorously, quite lost to
all but his appreciation and sense of the fun of the thing.
It seemed to remind him of something similar in his own experience, for
he immediately started in on a description of his own, and Nan sat
listening in her turn with rapt attention. Every now and then a shout
of laughter would come from the group in the distant corner, and the
girls longed to go over and join in the fun.
"Listen to John Gardiner 'haw-haw!'" cried Mary Brewster.
"Don't the Buckstone twins give funny little giggles?" interposed Louie.
"Why can't we go over and listen too?" suggested Ruth.
So they all, even Grace Ellis and Mary Brewster, went softly toward the
alluring corner, and were just in time to catch the end of Joe Tracy's
story, which was so witty that John Gardiner swayed back and forward
with delight and shook the room with his hearty laugh, and the
Buckstone girls' giggle joined in like a shrill accompaniment.
It had all come about so naturally that Joe Tracy did not realize that
he had been orating to a roomful, and he did not seem to mind it at all
when he discovered that he and Nan had had an audience. His shyness
was quite gone and his face was radiant with enjoyment.
The piano and violins started in again, and Miss Blake was heard
inviting bulky Tom Porter to escort her down to supper.
Of course, Nan had known all along that there would be something to
eat, but she had not dreamed of such a spread as this.
It made her eyes shine and her cheeks glow to hear such whispered words
as these:
"Yes, indeed! Aren't you?"
"Far and away the jolliest one yet!"
"Do get me some more salad, won't you, please? It's the best I ever
ate!"
"Up-and-down jolly time. A fellow likes to be made feel at home like
this."
Miss Blake, who without seeming to be watching any one, saw that every
one was well supplied, kept a constant eye on Nan, and at last, on the
strength of what she discovered, thought it was time to interfere.
"Now sit down, my dear," she commanded softly, coming up behind the
girl and touching her gently on the arm. "You are getting all tired
out and having nothing to eat yourself. Every one is served and the
waiters will look out for the rest. I have saved a place for you in
the corner beside Louie and Ruth. So go now and rest and eat and enjoy
yourself. You must not be the only one at your party who is neglected."
Nan gave her a grateful look and dashed off toward Louie and Ruth who
were beckoning wildly to her to come. They had so much to tell that
they almost forgot their plates in their eagerness to talk.
"Grace Ellis is just wild to come over here," confided Louie.
"But Mary Brewster won't let her. Mary just bosses Grace about till I
think it's positively disgraceful," whispered Ruth.
John Gardiner sauntered up.
"Got everything you want?" he asked in a manful effort to be attentive.
"No!" replied Nan, promptly, with a twinkle in her eye. "I want a
bicycle, please. Won't you get me one?" and she held out her plate as
if to have it supplied with the desired article.
The tall fellow laughed. "With pleasure," he said, and took the plate
and marched off with it.
"O dear! I hadn't finished my salad!" lamented Nan, looking
regretfully after him.
Louie managed to telegraph their dilemma to Harley Morris, who promptly
responded to it by appearing with another plate of salad and a dish of
sandwiches. He did not go away after Nan was served, but stayed on and
led in the laugh when John Gardiner reappeared with a tiny ice cream
bicycle daintily poised against a mound of jelly, which he presented to
Nan with a low bow full of mock dignity, saying:
"You have only to command and you are obeyed. Here is your wheel, and
may it go as fast as if it were geared to a hundred."
"Thank you," replied Nan, accepting the joke and the plate at the same
time. "It'll go fast enough, no fear of that. Eating is never up-hill
work with me, and this has nothing to do but coast, you see," and she
swallowed the first mouthful down with a jolly laugh.
"Look over at Mary Brewster! She's trying her best to pretend she
ignores us," whispered Ruth, but not so low but that the young fellows
could hear.
"Is one who ignores an ignor--amus?" asked Harley Morris, grinning
broadly at his own witticism.
"Yes," promptly answered Louie. "And in this case especially so, for
she doesn't know what she's losing."
There were more games after supper, and last of all came the jolliest
part of the whole evening, an old-fashioned Virginia reel, Miss Blake
and John Gardiner leading and the rest following with the heartiest of
zest. In and out they tripped and up and down they ran till all were
fairly out of breath. Then suddenly Miss Blake seized John's hand, and
away they sped toward the library, the rest following helter-skelter,
where the Christmas tree stood all lighted and ablaze.
"All hands round!" shouted John, as they formed a ring and pranced
gayly about the fragrant tree.
Then up rose the governess' cheery voice, singing the dear old
Christmas carol that is always new:
"Hark! the herald angels sing
Glory to the new-born King;
Peace on earth and mercy mild;
God and sinners reconciled."
And the rest joined in and made the house re-echo with their hearty
chorus:
"Joyful all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th' angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem!"
It seemed to melt the hearts of every one there, for the voices that
presently said "Good-night," were full of peace and good-will, and even
Mary Brewster's had a ring of sincerity in it as she murmured:
"Good-night, Miss Blake! Good-night, Nan. I've had a charming
evening, and I hope we'll know each other better after this."