The lovely Indian summer was over, and Thanksgiving Day passed happily. It was a great time for Marian, for Miss Dorothy was home for several days and together they planned the book of photographs to be sent to Marian's father. "I think it would better go in ample time," said Miss Dorothy, "for at Christmas time there will be such budgets going that we must be sure to get ours in before the rush begins. I should give it two or three weeks anyhow, and even if it does get there too soon, that will be better than too late." "Don't you think it is time I was getting an answer to my letter?" asked Marian. "It is high time, but perhaps your father has been away, and has not had his mail forwarded." And indeed that was exactly the way of it as was proved the very next day when the morning's mail brought Marian her long-looked-for Miss Dorothy hesitated. "Perhaps your father has written it for your eyes alone." "But suppose I can't read it." "Well, then we'll go to my room and you can open it there. If you can't read it I'll help you out. Will that do?" "Oh, yes, thank you, dearest Miss Dorothy." Marian had learned from Patty to use many endearing terms. They went up-stairs to the pleasant front room with its pretty paper and hangings of roses on a creamy ground, and by the window they sat down while Marian carefully opened the envelope. As she unfolded the sheet of paper it held, something fell out in her lap. "It is a photograph of papa," she cried as she picked it up. "I never had one of my very own, and see, Miss Dorothy, the letter is typewritten so I can read it quite easily, but please sit by me while I see what he says." "Just think," Marian said to Patty, "how much better I know my papa, and I shall keep on knowing him better and better." "Shall you show your grans the photographs, and the one of him?" asked Patty. "Yes," returned Marian thoughtfully, "Miss Dorothy thinks I ought to, and that I shall Miss Dorothy overhearing this wise remark, smiled. She quite believed that both Mr. and Mrs. Otway would be glad. As the days were getting both colder and shorter Miss Dorothy 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 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 grand 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, "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 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 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 "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 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." "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." 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 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 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. |