“Five o’clock, girls,” said Katie, pressing an electric button that she could reach without leaving her seat. “Jennie will bring in the tea; she knows what that bell means at this hour. And, Lily, do stop asking Marion questions. She’s only been in the house half an hour, and I know she’s all worn out with the trip.”

“Worn out! Why, it was splendid! I was sorry it wasn’t longer.”

The girls were sitting in Katie’s own pretty room, where every thing was primrose and gold, and she and Lily were doing their best to make Marion feel at ease in the rather embarrassing ordeal of making her first visit. Mr. Ashley had met her at the station and was cordiality itself. Mrs. Ashley’s greeting was heartfelt too, and the two girls flung themselves upon her in vociferous welcome.

Perhaps they had both felt a little nervous about her; but there was no need. Her close observation of such a good model as Mrs. Abbott and her quick faculty of imitation had so changed her manner and speech that there was really nothing to object to. She had benefited, too, by the cruel ridicule of her thoughtless school-mates, which had been lacerating while it lasted and very hard to bear.

Katie took her up to the pretty room she was to occupy after they had finished their little cups of tea and eaten a thin slice of bread and butter.

“We should have to put you both into the guest-chamber ordinarily,” she said, “but brother Jim and my two unmarried sisters are traveling in Europe with grandfather; so there’s lots of room. See, Lily’s door opens into your room, so you needn’t feel lonesome. I am going to get mamma to send AdÈle to dress your hair. She always does mine when I am at home.”

Marion declined the services of the French maid, but Katie laughed and ran down again, and in a few minutes AdÈle came in, having been ordered, she said, to help the young lady. Mrs. Abbott had told Marion to do, as far as she could, what her friends expected her to while she was visiting them; so she submitted to having her hair dressed, and received so many compliments from AdÈle on its length, quantity, and beautiful curliness that she was quite comforted. When she looked in the glass after the hair-dressing was over she hardly knew herself, and Lily, running in just then, fell into raptures.

“Where have you always hidden all that beautiful hair?” she exclaimed. “Why, you are positively lovely with your red cheeks and that fluff on your forehead. I wonder if AdÈle could change me into a beauty. But look here, Marion, you want to wear your best dress, the blue one, you know, to-night, because there’s to be a Christmas-tree, and the married son and daughter are coming, and they’re awfully swell.”

“I have a prettier dress than that, a red one;” and Marion exhibited her new dress.

“My, but I’m glad,” said Lily; “for really, do you know, Marion, I was wishing you had something pretty to come out in to-night?”

Truly Marion, with her hair stylishly arranged and delicate white frilling at the neck and sleeves of the bright red dress was a pleasant picture as she took her seat by Lily’s side at the dinner-table.

Katie explained to her mother that as life at Mrs. Abbott’s included a two-o’clock dinner they must be excused if their appetites were feeble at a seven-o’clock dinner. Mr. Ashley affected to consider this a great joke, and went into little spasms of mirth every time the plates were changed and the “feeble appetites” did not prevent the girls from tasting every dish that was offered.

They were occupied with their dessert when the married Ashley children came. The son had a pretty little wife, who looked nearly as young as Katie, and a wonderfully smart little black-eyed daughter of three, who asked, the instant she came in, where “Danpa’s Twissmus-twee” was.

Mrs. Clifford Leigh, the oldest Ashley daughter, was a tall, handsome young woman, whose rather haughty bearing frightened Marion into awkwardness at first, but when an exclamation of rapturous admiration escaped her lips at the sight of two lovely children who were brought in by their nurses the young mother’s face softened into a gratified smile which made it charming.

Marion had a feeling that Mrs. Clifford despised her, and Lily, who sometimes had very keen intuitions, suspected her feeling and whispered:

“Say, Marion, don’t you worry. Katie has never said any thing about you to her brothers and sisters. Not that there’s much of any thing to say; but you know what I mean.” For answer Marion squeezed her hand lovingly and immediately felt more indifferent to Mrs. Clifford’s haughty manner, which was, after all, nothing but manner, for she was really as good-natured and friendly as Katie herself.

Mrs. Ashley excused herself and mysteriously retired to the drawing-room, between which and the dining-room the portieres were closely drawn together. Presently they slid swiftly apart and the whole company went toward the other end of the long room, where stood a dazzling Christmas-tree lighted by a host of candles and brilliant with silver and gilt decorations that caught and reflected the light with glittering effect.

The little ones danced about gayly with out-cries of delight, and Marion was dumb with admiration at her first sight of a real Christmas-tree. She had read of them often, but never imagined they could be so beautiful.

Mr. Ashley, with a tiny hand in each of his, began dancing his little granddaughters about to the waltz which was trilled out by an immense music-box, till Mrs. Clifford reminded him that they were all pining for a view of their presents. So he put on an absurdly serious manner and began to gather the fruit that Santa Claus had raised in his own private hot-house, as he expressed it.

The first fruit plucked was a beautiful doll, which was handed to little Hilda Ashley, who received it enthusiastically. Its twin was given to her oldest little cousin, and small Master Clifford received a box that stood under the tree, being too heavy to hang upon it. The young gentleman was immediately lost to sight behind the box, but his approval of the contents, as his nurse took them out, was distinctly audible. Horses and their attachments had been his craze all of his short life, and the majestic pair of bays with a big, solid express-wagon that filled the box, were almost large enough for actual service.

There were many other presents for the children, which were taken in charge by their mothers, and then Mr. Ashley said Santa Claus owed them an apology for entirely forgetting to provide any thing for the grown folks. Katie whispered to Marion that he had made that same remark every year since she could remember; but even if it was not strictly original on the present occasion it was thought irresistibly funny, for while he was sadly shaking his head over the misfortune he was untying the blue ribbon which held a morocco box to the tree. This he handed mournfully to young Mrs. Ashley, whose eyes sparkled as she opened it and discovered an opal ring with a brilliant setting of diamonds. She flashed an appreciative look at her husband, who was watching her, and Marion felt sure the ring had been presented by him.

Mrs. Clifford had from her husband a reminder that the day was also the anniversary of their wedding, in the shape of a lovely pin modeled from an antique Swedish wedding-gift.

The young men received a collection of umbrellas, canes, pins, and sleeve-buttons, and then more boxes with gifts from father and mother and friends were taken down and given to their wives. Then Mr. Ashley, in a puzzled way, declared it seemed astonishing that three young and interesting girls should be left out when every one else was remembered. Even Mrs. Ashley, he said, had her pile, and a goodly pile it was. Katie abused him roundly as he slowly inspected parcels and boxes on the tree and on the table behind it, and declared she would jump over the ribbon that was stretched across that end of the room for a dividing-line. At last he slowly took down a square flat box, then laid it on the table, remarking in a hopeless way that the writing was upside-down.

“Turn it the other way,” cried Katie, stamping her foot in mock anger.

“What a head you have!” said her father, and he frisked around to the other side of the table as if the little box itself could not be turned. “Why, it’s your own name,” he added, in great surprise.

“So it is, but you didn’t read it all;” and Katie handed the box to Lily, pointing to the inscription, “From Katherine Stowe Ashley to Lily Dart.”

There was a beautiful handkerchief with an embroidered edge in it, and another box, handed then to Marion, held one just like it.

From Mrs. Ashley Lily received a gold bangle, and Marion a simple but extremely pretty gold and garnet breastpin, which quite took her breath away, it seemed so magnificent.

Mr. Ashley kept up the farce of not being able to discover any remembrances for Katie till that young lady became quite impatient. Then he handed her a carefully wrapped-up diary with an elegant exterior and hopelessly blank interior. She received it with a comical little gesture, for it meant that her mother expected her to continue the daily record that she had pursued for four years.

There was a gold thimble for Katie from her sister-in-law, a bewitching fan from Mrs. Clifford, and lovely “bits of travel,” as Mr. Ashley called the gifts from the absent sisters and brothers, who sent carvings from Sorrento, silver from Nuremberg, laces from Paris, and specialties from other points to all at home.

Then Mr. Ashley ceremoniously presented his youngest daughter with the prettiest pocket-book his researches among the shops could unearth.

“It would have been a diamond ring, Katie. I mean to say it was a diamond ring,” he said, mournfully, “but your mother made me take it back to Tiffany, because you are too young, she says. So try to get older, my child, and I will reward you with precious stones.”

Katie laughed and admired her father’s gift, remarking with some philosophy that she’d rather have it than a ring, for she could have the comfort of using it, and if she had had the ring mamma would not have let her wear it till she was out of school.

“But you haven’t examined the lining,” Mr. Ashley said, anxiously, after nodding approvingly at her manner of receiving his gift. The “lining” was a check, and Katie, seeing its highly respectable amount, flew at her father in a transport. He retreated before her rush in mock terror, but on being caught returned her hug with interest, begging her in a loud whisper not to reveal the amount of her check to any one.

Katie’s good sense was getting the better of the vanity and bragging that the girls at school used to find objectionable in her, and, true to some new resolutions she had been making, she followed her father’s jocose request and told no one but her mother the amount of her gift.

“I knew I should get some money,” she said that night after the girls had gone up to her room, “so I ran pretty deeply in debt for things for mamma’s tree to-morrow.”

“Another tree!” exclaimed the girls, in chorus.

“Same one dressed over; but wait and see. It’s twice the fun this was.”