THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Mr. Fairfield's gift to his wife was a beautiful motor-car, and as they
were going away for the holiday, he presented it to her the day before
Christmas.
It was practically a gift to Patty as well, for the whole family could
enjoy it.
"It's perfectly lovely," said Nan, as they all started out for a little
spin, to try it. "I've had so much trouble of late with taxicabs, that
it's a genuine comfort to have my own car at my beck and call. It's a
lovely car, Fred, and Patty and I shall just about live in it."
"I want you to enjoy it," returned Mr. Fairfield, "and you may have every
confidence in the chauffeur. He's most highly recommended by a man I know
well, and he's both careful and skilful."
"A nice-mannered man, too," observed Patty. "I like his looks, and his
mode of address. But if this car is partly my present, then I ought not
to have had that gold money to buy drums with."
"Oh, yes, you ought," said her father. "That was your individual gift. In
this car you and Nan are partners. By the way, Puss, did you ever get
your forty drums? I didn't hear about them."
"You're lucky that you didn't hear them," laughed Patty. "Yes, I did get
them,--not all drums, some other toys,--and I took them down to the
Sunshine place yesterday. I went with Mrs. Morse and Clementine. You know
the kiddywids had their Christmas tree, the little poor children, and
such a noise you never heard! They yelled and shouted for glee, and they
banged drums and tooted horns, and then they sang songs, and I think I
never knew such a noisy celebration, even on the fourth of July."
"And were they glad to get your gifts?"
"Oh, yes, indeed! Why, just think, father, the little girls all had
dolls, but if I hadn't taken the gifts for the boys, they would only have
had candy or an orange. Next Christmas I'm going to do more for them."
"I'm glad to see your charitable spirit waking up, Patty-girl. I don't
want you to be a mere social butterfly. But, you know, you needn't wait
for Christmas to make the poor babies happy."
"No; I know it, daddy, dear; and after Christmas is over, I'm going to
try to do some good in the world."
"Now, Patty," said Nan, "don't you go in for settlement work, and that
sort of thing. I won't let you. You're not strong enough for it."
"I don't know exactly what settlement work is," said Patty, "but I do
know I'm not going to be a mere butterfly. I'm going to accomplish
something worth while."
"Well, wait till the holiday season is over," advised Mr. Fairfield.
"You've made forty boys happy, now turn your attention to making your
family and friends happy. What are you going to give your poor old father
for a Christmas gift, I should like to know."
"I haven't any such relative as you describe," returned Patty, smiling at
him affectionately. "I have a young and handsome father, and I think he
seems to be rather a rich gentleman. Also I have a gift awaiting him at
home, and I think we'd better be going there."
"I do, too," said Nan. "We've none too much time to get our luncheon and
go to the train. Oh! what a comfort it will be to go to the train in our
own motor-car."
"Yes," said Patty, "and then Miller can come back and take me over to
Elise's."
So home they went, and had their own little Christmas celebration, before
they went their separate ways.
"This is a make-believe Christmas feast," said Patty, as they sat at
their own luncheon table.
She had placed a sprig of holly at each plate, and a vase of poinsettia
blossoms graced the centre of the table.
"This ox-tail soup is in place of the boar's head," she went on, gaily;
"and I know we are going to have chicken croquettes, which we will
pretend are the roast turkey. And then we'll have our presents, as I know
you two will fly for your train as soon as you leave the table."
So Patty gave Nan her present, which was a lovely white couch pillow of
lace and embroidery. And Nan gave Patty a picture to hang in her own
room. It was a beautiful water-colour, a Venetian scene, and Patty was
delighted with it.
Then Patty gave her father a gold penholder, which she had had made
expressly for him, and engraved with his name.
"Why, that's fine, Pattykins!" he exclaimed. "I can only write poems with
a pen like that. It's not made for business letters, I'm sure."
"Of course it isn't," said Patty, gaily; "it's to keep on your desk in
the library here at home. And you must use it just for social
correspondence or----"
"Or to sign checks for us," suggested Nan, smiling.
"That's just what I'll do with it," declared Mr. Fairfield. "It's a gem
of a pen; Patty, you know my weakness for fine desk appointments, don't
you?"
Nan gave her husband a watch fob, on which hung a locket containing a
miniature of her own sweet face. Neither Patty nor her father had seen
this before, as Nan had been careful to keep the matter secret in order
to surprise them.
It was a real work of art, and so winsome was the pictured face that
Patty cried out in admiration: "What a stunner you are, Nan! I didn't
realise you were so good-looking,--but it's exactly like you."
"That's a mixed-up compliment, Patty," laughed Nan, "but I'll surmise
that you mean well."
"I do so! I think it's a lovely picture of a lovely lady! There, how's
that?"
"Much better," said Nan, as Patty caught her round the shoulders and
kissed her affectionately.
"Give me the lady," said Mr. Fairfield, taking Nan into his own arms. "As
the portrait is a gift to me, I will kiss her for it, myself."
"Do," said Patty, "but if you give her more than three kisses, you'll
lose your train; it's getting pretty late."
"Is it?" cried Mr. Fairfield. "Then, Jane, bring in those two boxes I
left in your charge, will you?"
"Yes, sir," cried the waitress, and, leaving the room, she returned in a
moment with two large white boxes.
"These are Christmas gifts to the two loveliest ladies I know," said Mr.
Fairfield, gallantly tendering a box to each.
"But I've had my Christmas gift from you!" exclaimed Patty, and "So have
I!" cried Nan.
"Nevertheless these are laid at your feet," said Mr. Fairfield, calmly
depositing the boxes on the floor in front of them.
"Oh, well, we may as well see what they are," said Patty, untying the
white ribbons that fastened her box.
Nan did likewise, and in a moment they were both rapturously exclaiming
over two sets of white furs that nestled in billows of white tissue
paper.
Nan's furs were ermine, and Patty's were soft, fluffy, white fox, and so
beautiful were they that the two recipients donned them at once, and
posed side by side before the mirror, admiring themselves and each other.
Then, with a simultaneous impulse they turned to thank the donor, and Mr.
Fairfield found himself suddenly entangled in four arms and two boas,
while two immense muffs met at the back of his neck and enveloped his
head and ears.
"Have mercy!" he cried; "come one at a time, can't you? Yes, yes, I'm
glad you're pleased, but do get this fur out of my mouth! I feel as if I
were attacked by polar bears!"
"Oh, Fathery Fairfield," Patty cried, "you are the dearest thing in the
world! How _did_ you know I wanted furs? And white fox, of all things!
And ermine for Nan! Oh, but you _are_ a good gentleman! Isn't he,
stepmother?"
"He'll do," said Nan, smiling roguishly at her husband, who, somehow,
seemed satisfied with this faint praise.
"Now, scamper, Nan-girl," he cried, "if you would see your mother to-day,
you must leave here in less than an hour. Can you be ready?"
"I can't, but I will," replied Nan, gaily, as she ran away to prepare for
her journey.
Patty, too, went to her room to get ready for her visit at the
Farringtons'. She was to stay three days, and as there were several
parties planned for her entertainment, she packed a small trunk with
several of her prettiest gowns. Also, she had a suitcase full of gifts
for the Christmas tree, which was to be part of the festivities.
She bade her parents good-by when they started, and watched the new
motor-car disappear round the corner, then returned to her own
preparations.
"I do have lovely things," she thought to herself, as she folded her
dainty garments and laid them in their places.
Then she glanced again at her new furs.
"I have too much," she thought; "it isn't fair for one girl to have so
much, when so many poor people have nothing. I wonder what I ought to do
about it."
Poor Patty was confronting the problem that has troubled and baffled so
many honest hearts, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed
insoluble.
"At any rate, it would be absurd to give my white furs, or my chiffon
frocks to poor people," she concluded, "for they couldn't use them. Well,
after the holidays, I'm going to see what I can do. But now, I must
hurry, or I'll be late."
An hour or two later, she found herself in the Farringtons' home.
"What lovely furs, Patty," exclaimed Mrs. Farrington, "and how well they
suit you!"
They were extremely becoming, and Patty's pretty face, with its soft
colour and smiling eyes, rose like a flower from the white fur at her
throat.
"Yes, aren't they beautiful?" Patty responded. "Father just gave them to
me, and I'm so pleased with them."
"And well you may be. Now, you girls run away and play, for I've a
thousand things to do."
Indeed, Mrs. Farrington was in a whirlpool of presents that she was both
sending and receiving. Maids and footmen were running hither and thither,
bringing messages or carrying out orders, and as the whole house was full
of warmth and light, and the spicy fragrance of Christmas greens, Patty
fairly revelled in the pleasant atmosphere.
She was of a nature very susceptible to surroundings. Like a cat, she
loved to bask in warm sunshine, or in a luxurious, softly-furnished
place. Moreover, she was fond of Elise, and so looked forward to her
three days' visit with glad anticipation.
After Patty had laid aside her things, the two girls sat down to chat in
the big hall on the second floor of the mansion. A wood-fire was blazing,
and soft, red-shaded lights cast a delightful glow.
"Elise," said Patty, somewhat suddenly, "don't you think we have too much
riches and things?"
Elise stared at her.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Patty laughed at her friend's blank expression, but she went on.
"I mean just what I say. Of course, you have lots more riches and things
than I have; but I think we all have too much when we think of the poor
people who haven't any."
"Oh, you mean Socialism," exclaimed Elise, suddenly enlightened.
"No, I don't mean Socialism. I mean plain, every-day charity. Don't you
think we ought to give away more?"
"Why, yes, if you like," said Elise, who was greatly puzzled. "Do you
want me to subscribe to some charity? I will."
"Well, perhaps I'll hold you to that," said Patty, slowly; "for after the
holidays I'm going to try to do something in the matter. I don't know
just what; I haven't thought it out yet. But I'm not going to be what my
father calls a 'mere social butterfly,' and I don't believe you want to,
either."
"No, I don't; but do leave it all till after the holidays, Patty, for now
I want you to help me with some Christmas presents."
Elise looked so worried and so beseeching that Patty laughed. Then she
kissed her, and said: "All right, Lisa mine. Command me. My services are
at your disposal."
So the girls went up to the Sun Parlour, where Elise had all her choicest
belongings, and where she now had her array of Christmas gifts.
The room was entirely of glass, and by a careful arrangement of double
panes and concealed heat-pipes, was made comfortable even in the coldest
weather. Flowers and plants were round the sides; birds in gilt cages
sang and twittered; and gilt wicker furniture gave the place a dainty
French effect that was charming. On the tables were strewn Christmas
gifts of all sorts.
"I'm just tying up the last ones," said Elise. "Don't be afraid to look;
yours is safely hidden away. Now, here's what I want to know."
She picked up a gold seal ring, which, however, had no crest or monogram
cut on it,--and a bronze paper cutter.
"They're lovely," said Patty, as she looked at them. "Who catches these?"
"That's just what I don't know. I bought the ring for Roger and the paper
cutter for Kenneth Harper; he's coming to-night. But I'd like to change
them about and give the ring to Ken, and the paper knife to Roger. Would
you?"
"No, I wouldn't," said Patty, bluntly. "Why do you want to do such a
thing?"
"The ring is much the handsomer gift," said Elise, who had turned a
trifle pink.
"Of course it is," said Patty, "and that's why you should give it to your
brother. It's too personal a gift to give to a boy friend."
"That's what I was afraid of," said Elise, with a little sigh. "But Roger
won't care for it at all, and Kenneth would like it heaps."
"_Because_ you gave it to him?" asked Patty, quickly.
"Oh, I don't know. Yes, perhaps so."
"Nonsense, Elise! You're too young to give rings to young men."
"Ken isn't a young man, he's only a boy."
"Well, he's over twenty-one; and anyway, I know it wouldn't be right for
you to give him a ring. Your mother wouldn't like it at all."
"Oh, she wouldn't care."
"Well, she ought to, and I think she would. Now, don't be silly; give the
ring to Roger, and if you want something grander than this bronze jig for
Ken, get him a book. As handsome a book as you choose; but a book. Or
something that's impersonal. Not a ring or a watch-fob, or anything like
that."
"But he gave you a necklace,--the day we sailed for Paris."
"Fiddle-de-dee! It was only a locket, with the merest thread of a gold
chain; and anyway, I never wore it but once or twice."
"Well, you oughtn't to have accepted it, if a personal gift is so
reprehensible."
"Elise, you're a goose!" said Patty, losing her patience at last. "A gift
like that is not in very good taste from a boy to a girl; but from a girl
to a boy, it's very much worse. And, anyway, it was different in my case;
for Ken and I are old friends, which you and he are not. And, beside,
father knew about it, and he said as a parting keepsake it was all right.
But at a Christmas tree, in your own house,--Elise, you'll make a great
mistake if you give Kenneth Harper a seal ring."
"All right, Patty, you know I always do just as you say, so I'll give it
to Roger."
Patty knew she had judged rightly in the matter, but she also knew that
Elise was greatly disappointed at her decision.
She had already noticed that Elise liked handsome Kenneth, but if she
did, that was only an added reason why she should not make him a present
of a ring.
"She ought to have had more sense!" Patty said to herself, indignantly.
"And I'm sorry if she's sorry; but I couldn't let her do such a foolish
thing!"