"Girls, girls!" cried Jessie Wayne, bursting unannounced into Bertha Peck's room where ten or twelve of her mates were feverishly at work on Christmas mysteries, anxious to have everything complete before the morrow saw them scattered in their many homes for their holiday vacation. "Just listen to this. Mamma is going to give me a party Christmas Eve, and there are a hundred invitations sent out. Isn't that gorgeous? The parties mamma gives are simply fine; almost everyone we invite comes. I wish we lived here in this city so I could have all of you. And New Years Day she is going to take six of us over to Pasadena in the auto to see the Tournament of the Roses and the chariot races. I have often been there, we go every year, but it is lots more fun with a crowd of people your own age. One day we are going up Mt. Lowe, and another day if it is warm enough she has promised to take us to one of the beaches for bathing, I just love the ocean. Isn't my vacation going to be dandy?"

"I should think it is," exclaimed Chrystobel. "That's what I like—plenty of excitement. I tried to coax mamma to let me spend the holidays with my cousins in San Francisco, but she said to wait until next summer when she and papa could go, too. I don't know what they are planning for this Christmas, but I expect to have a jolly time."

"So do I," piped up the spoiled Cassandra, who could not be bribed or forced to stay away from these secret sewing bees, though she never pretended to do anything but pry. "We are going to San Diego to grandma's house for Christmas, and there is to be a real evergreen tree and loads of presents. I'm going to get a gold watch. I know, 'cause I teased mamma until she said she would buy me one."

"We have a family reunion at Redlands," said active Julia Moore. "There will be forty of us in all. Won't we have a merry time? I have two cousins whose birthdays are in the same week with mine, and folks call us the triplets, though Jack is a year older than I and Fred is a year younger. They are the greatest teases, always playing jokes on me; so I have fixed up these two turkey wishbones to get even with them this year. Do you suppose they can find anything worse-looking to give me?" She held up two grotesque figures of wishbone and wax, dressed like Dutch boys in baggy trousers and queer caps, and the girls shouted derisively.

"If only I had seen them in time to plan one for Uncle Tim!" sighed mischievous Grace Tilton. "I owe him a philopena, and that would have been a splendid way to pay it."

"But it takes only a few minutes to make one," answered Julia. "I will show you how. Cousin Minnie cut the pattern for the trousers."

"I haven't the wishbone, though," returned Grace. "But never mind; Carrie is going home with me for Christmas, and we will think up something ridiculous."

"Why, Carrie!" cried Mercedes. "I thought you and Kitty were going home to Silver Bow."

"That is what we had expected to do, but just yesterday I got a letter from mamma telling me I might accept Grace's invitation, because papa has to go East right away on business and she is going with him." "Then what are you going to do, Kitty?"

"Stay here at school," answered Tabitha briefly, stitching busily away on Tom's handkerchief, trying hard not to betray her keen disappointment at this unexpected change of plan.

"Oh, are you?" cried Bertha, dropping a dainty apron she was frilling with lace, and clapping her hands softly. "I am so glad! I was afraid I was to be the only girl left at school. I have to spend my vacations here, because I could hardly get home to Canada and back again before lessons would begin once more. Last year at Christmas there were three of us left-overs, besides Miss Pomeroy and Miss Summers; but during our spring vacation I was the only girl in the building, and perhaps I wasn't lonely, even though Miss Pomeroy was lovely. She always does everything she can think of to make the hours pleasant, and we had some grand visits together."

Tabitha's face had grown visibly brighter during this recital, but the shadow of bitter disappointment still lingered in the somber black eyes, for she had counted much on having Carrie to herself for this brief fortnight and it was hard to give up such fond hopes. Ever since boarding school life had begun these two bosom friends had seen little of each other, as Tabitha had now far outstripped Carrie in her classes, and Cassandra skilfully managed to monopolize her good-natured, loving little room-mate most of their leisure hours. Grace's invitation had included Tabitha, to be sure, but there was no money in the little purse for railroad fare, and of course it was now too late for her father to send her any, even if she had dared to ask him. So she stifled back her longings and tried to look happy as she said saucily, "Well, 'two is company, three is a crowd, four in the schoolhouse are not allowed'."

"Oh," cried Cassandra, "you changed that—"

"Just to fit the occasion, my child," interrupted Bertha with a patronizing air which usually made the meddling infant grit her teeth and hold her tongue.

But in spite of Tabitha's efforts to be brave, Carrie saw the look in the black eyes and understood; and Chrystobel, detecting the slight quiver in the voice meant to be merry, understood also; and a sudden silence fell over the room of busy workers. The waning afternoon deepened into dusk, Bertha rose and turned on the lights, the girls moved their positions so the bright rays would fall to best advantage on their work, but for many minutes not a sound was heard in the crowded room save the rustle of linen and lawn, and the snip, snip of glittering scissors. Then the tea-bell pealed out its summons, and the toilers sprang to their feet in dismay.

"So late! And my collar isn't done yet!"

"I have only the belt to put on my apron."

"All but about an inch of hemstitching done on this handkerchief."

"The initials are a little crooked on this glove-case, but I have finished. Thank goodness!"

Chrystobel said never a word, but gathering up her work with unusual haste, she flew to her room, switched on the lights, gave her beautiful curls a brush or two, jerked her collar over a fraction of an inch, and disappeared down the stairway before Tabitha had reached the door of Bertha's room. Straight to the principal's office she ran, knocked lightly, and almost before she heard the gentle summons from within, she burst into the room with the breathless question, "Oh, Miss Pomeroy, can I stay here at school for the holidays? May I, I mean?"

"Why, my dear," smiled the white-haired lady, "my girls are always welcome here."

"But I thought during vacations you let only those who had nowhere else to go stay here."

"That is just because the girls who have homes to go to prefer to spend their holidays there, Chrystobel. It is unusual for a pupil to elect to stay here on such occasions, particularly at Christmas time. What is the trouble, dear? Have your parents—"

"Oh, no, it isn't that. They expect me, but can't I telegraph them that I want to stay here? They won't object. They always let me have my own way, Miss Pomeroy."

"But still I cannot understand your sudden decision, Chrystobel."

"It's on account of Kitty—Tabitha. She can't go home, and now that the Carsons have to leave for the East, she can't spend her vacation with Carrie, and she does feel so sorry!"

"What makes you think that?" asked the principal with a curious tightening of her throat.

"Just her mouth, and because I know her. She laughs and pretends she doesn't mind, but I couldn't help seeing her lips; and she has never had the good times I have, and I—I thought maybe if I stayed here with her and Bertha, it would make them both feel happier."

Miss Pomeroy looked down into the eager, flushed face and wondered how she had ever called Chrystobel selfish; then she asked, "Have you counted the cost? If you stay here to make Tabitha's Christmas happy, she must never suspect any regrets you may feel because your own plans have been laid aside."

"I have thought about all that, Miss Pomeroy. She has been so good and patient with me that I should feel terribly mean to go home for a jolly vacation and leave her here."

"Very well, if you are sure you want to stay, you may telegraph your people for permission. Living so close to the city, you ought to get a reply in the morning before time to start for your home, if that is their wish in the matter."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Pomeroy!" cried the girl in genuine gladness. "Mamma will let me stay, I know she will!" And as the second summons for the evening meal pealed through the building, she danced happily away to her place in the dining-room.

Hardly was the chapel service over when Carrie and Grace appeared at the door of the principal's domain, and the flaxen-haired girl began hesitatingly, "Miss Pomeroy, do you let girls stay here at school during the holidays if they can go somewhere else just as well as not?"

"Yes, my dear. Any of the girls are welcome to stay, though it is seldom one chooses to do so if she can possibly go home."

"Then may we stay? I had expected to go home, and then when Mamma wrote that they wouldn't be in Silver Bow themselves, I expected to go with Grace; but Tabitha can't and I don't want to leave her here alone."

"And if neither one of them will spend the vacation with me, I would rather stay here, too," said Grace. "I can telegraph to see if mamma will let me, but I know she will say yes."

"Bertha and Chrystobel expect to be here, you know," suggested Miss Pomeroy, watching to see what effect these words would have on the two supplicants.

"Chrystobel, too?" they cried in unison.

"Yes, she has just sent a telegram to her family."

"Then what a nice time we can give Tabitha!" exclaimed Carrie.

"She is always doing something for us," added Grace, "and it will be lovely to get even with her that way."

"Then you still wish to remain here for Christmas?"

"Yes, indeed," they answered, "if we may."

"I shall be glad to have so many of my girlies with me during the holidays, and I am sure Tabitha and Bertha will appreciate every effort you make to give them a happy time. Good-night, dears."

They scurried gleefully away, much delighted with the principal's decision, and already planning what they might do to fill the vacation days for Tabitha. As they pranced up the stairway, they met roguish Vera Foss hurrying toward the lower floor, and in answer to Carrie's laughing demand, "Where are you going, my pretty maid?" she said seriously, "To ask Miss Pomeroy's permission to stay here over Christmas."

"Why?" cried the amazed conspirators in one breath.

"Oh, I just got to thinking how badly I would feel if I had to stay here for the holidays like Kitty and Bertha must, when everyone else is going home to parties and tournaments and gay times generally, and I thought it would be lots more fun for them if there were others here to keep them company. So when Aunt Lyda came for me, I asked her about it and she said I might stay if Miss Pomeroy would let me."

"Goody! She will. She said we might. When your aunt goes, come up to Grace's room and let's make our plans right away. We will get Chrystobel if she isn't with Puss."

The next morning when the bevy of bright-faced, light-hearted girls came to wish their teachers and two lone mates a merry Christmas before scattering for the holiday season, the four plotters, Chrystobel, Carrie, Grace and Vera, were foremost in the ranks, laughing and chattering the gayest of them all, as they jerked on coats and strapped up suitcases ready for departure. "Here comes the bus," called someone. "Grace, Carrie, where are you?"

"Where are the Monrovia girls? Oh, Vera, you are wanted."

"Chrystie, your turn next. Is this your grip? Good-by all! Merry Christmas!"

With a few final, hasty hugs, the quartette sprang down the steps, climbed into the waiting vehicles, and departed—to all appearances—amid a great waving of handkerchiefs and pennants.

At length the last good-by had been spoken, the last merry girl was gone, four of the teachers, too, had deserted their posts for holiday fun, and as the chug-chug of the last machine died away in the distance, Miss Pomeroy dropped her arms over the shoulders of the two drooping figures on the steps, and said cheerily, "And is this all I have left of my big flock? Well, we are going to have some joyous celebrating this year, I can promise you; but no doubt you have some Christmas work you would like to complete this morning, so I will not detain you now to discuss our plans. Run up to your rooms if you wish; we can do our talking at luncheon." Bertha and Tabitha tried to smile bravely, but the tears were too near to permit of words, and in silence the lonely duet climbed the wide stairway to their floor, each intending to have a private little weep all by herself. But,

There was a wild rush of feet in the hallway overhead, and a shower of light parcels filled the air, pelting the sober figures from right and left, as a chorus of merry voices screamed joyously, "Merry, merry Christmas!"

"You thought we had gone home, didn't you?"

"But we haven't and we aren't going to! Miss Pomeroy said we might stay."

"And the other girls left those packages for jokes. The real presents are all in the principal's office."

"Oh, girls!" gasped Tabitha, with eyes shining like diamonds.

"Oh, girls!" echoed Bertha, her face wreathed in her own sunny smile again.

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