The Christmas Eve dinner was set for an early hour, that the younger Farrington children might take part in the festivities.

Beside Elise and Roger, there were two younger girls, Louise and Hester, and Bobby, aged ten.

When Patty went down to the drawing-room, she found these three eager with anticipation of the Christmas frolic about to begin.

Kenneth Harper was there too, but there were no other guests, as this evening was to be a family celebration. Soon the other members of the household appeared, and then dinner was announced, and they all went to the dining-room.

Mr. Farrington offered his arm to Patty, and escorted her out first, as guest of honour. Mrs. Farrington followed with Kenneth, and then the five Farrington children came out less formally.

A burst of applause greeted their first sight of the dinner table. It was indeed a Christmas feast to the eye as well as to the palate.

In the centre of the table was a Christmas tree, decorated with tinsel and gay ornaments, and lighted by tiny electric bulbs.

At each plate also, was a tiny Christmas tree, whose box-shaped standards bore the names of the diners.

“Here’s mine!” cried Bobby, as he slid into his chair. “Oh, what a jolly dinner!”

On the little place trees hung nuts and bonbons which were to be eaten, “at the pleasure of the performer,” as Roger expressed it.

The table was also decked with holly and red ribbons, and the various viands, as they were served, were shaped or decorated in keeping with the occasion.

The Farrington household was conducted on a most elaborate plan, and their dinners were usually very formal and conventional. But to-night was an exception, and, save for the solemn butler and grave footmen, everybody in the room was bubbling over with laughter and merriment.

“I’m not hungry any more,” declared Bobby, after he had done full justice to several courses; “let’s hurry up, and have the tree.”

“Wait, Bobs,” advised Hester; “we haven’t had the ice cream yet.”

“Oh, that’s so,” said Bobby; “can’t we have it now, mother, and skip these flummerydiddles?”

He looked scornfully at the dainty salad that had just been placed before him, but Mrs. Farrington only smiled, not caring to remind him of the laws of table etiquette on a festive occasion.

“Have patience, Bobby, dear,” she said; “the ice cream will come next; and, too, you know the longer the dinner, the later you can sit up.”

“That’s so!” agreed Bobby. “My, but Christmas Eve is fun! Wish I could sit up late every night.”

“But it wouldn’t be Christmas Eve every night,” said Patty, smiling at the chubby-faced boy.

“That’s so! Neither no more it wouldn’t! Well, I wish it was Christmas Eve every night, then!”

“That’s right,” laughed Patty. “Make a good big wish while you’re about it.”

Then the ice cream was served and of course it was in shapes of Christmas trees, and Santa Clauses, and sprigs of holly, and Christmas bells, and Patty’s portion was a lovely spray of mistletoe bough.

“Ho, ho!” laughed Kenneth, seeing it across the table; “another good chance lost! You know the penalty, Patty, if you’re caught under the mistletoe. But of course if you eat mistletoe, the charm fails.”

“I’m willing it should,” said Patty, as she took up her spoon. “I’m not pining for a rustic swain to kiss me ’neath the mistletoe bough.”

Patty looked very roguish and provoking as she said this, and Mr. Farrington said, gallantly:

“Ah, no, perhaps not. But the swains are doing the pining, without doubt.”

Now Roger sat on the other side of Patty, and as his father finished speaking, he said, apparently apropos of nothing:

“Mother, are these your Spode plates, or are they Cauldon ware?”

“They’re Spode, Roger; why do you want to know? Are you suddenly becoming interested in China?”

“Yes,” he replied; “are you sure, mother, these are Spode?”

He lifted the handsome plate in front of him, and gazed intently at the mark on its under side, as he held it just above the level of his eyes.

“Be careful, Roger, you’ll spill your ice cream,” admonished his father.

“No, I won’t, sir,” he said, as he replaced his plate. “But I never saw Spode with this decoration before. Let me look at yours, Patty.”

He took up Patty’s plate of ice cream, and lifting it quite high studied the stamp on that.

Suddenly he moved it, until the dish of mistletoe ice cream was directly over Patty’s head.

“Fairly caught!” he cried; “under the mistletoe!” And before Patty caught the jest, Roger had kissed her pretty pink cheek, and then calmly restored her plate of ice cream to its place in front of her.

“You villain!” she cried, glaring at him, and pretending to be greatly offended, but smiling in spite of herself at his clever ruse.

“Good for you, my boy!” cried Mr. Farrington, clapping his hands. “I wish I had thought of that myself. But it’s a game that won’t work twice.”

“Indeed it won’t!” said Patty, “I’ll take care of that!” and she began to eat her mistletoe ice cream in proof of her words.

“It never can happen again,” said Kenneth, in sad tones, as he watched the “mistletoe” disappear. “But I’ll not give up all hope. It’s still Christmas Eve, and there are other mistletoes and other manners.”

“And other girls,” said Patty, glancing mischievously at Elise.

“Yes, there are four of us,” said Louise, so innocently that they all laughed.

“All right, Louise,” said Kenneth, “you find a nice, big spray of mistletoe, after dinner, and wear it in that big topknot bow of yours, and I’ll promise to kiss you on both cheeks.”

But Louise was too shy to respond to this repartee, and she dropped her eyes in confusion.

“Now,” said Mrs. Farrington, as she rose from the table, “we’ll have our Christmas Waits sing carols, and then we’ll have our tree.”

The children understood this, and Hester and Bobby at once ran out of the room. A few moments later they returned, dressed in trailing white robes, like surplices, and before they reached the drawing-room, their childish voices could be heard singing old-fashioned carols.

They had been well trained, and sang very prettily, and as they appeared in the doorway, Patty could scarcely believe that these demure little white-robed figures were the two merry children.

After two or three carols by the “Waits,” the whole party joined in a Christmas chorus, and Patty’s clear soprano rang out sweetly in the harmony.

“What a lovely voice you have, Patty, dear,” said Mrs. Farrington, as the song was done; “it has improved greatly since I heard you last. Are you taking lessons?”

“I shall, Mrs. Farrington, after we get fairly settled. Father wants me to begin as soon as he can find the right teacher.”

“Yes, indeed; you must do so. It would be a shame not to cultivate such a talent as that.”

“You have improved, Patty!” declared Kenneth. “My! but your voice is stunning. I expect we’ll see you on the concert stage yet.”

“More likely on a Fifth Avenue stage,” said Patty, laughing.

“Now for the tree!” exclaimed Bobby, who had thrown aside his white robe, and was ready for the fun to begin.

The tree had been set up in the indoor tennis-court, which was in the Casino.

This Casino, practically another house, opened from the great hall of the Farrington mansion, and its various apartments were devoted to different sorts of amusements.

The tennis court made a fine setting for the Christmas celebration, and had been carefully prepared for the great event.

The floor was covered with white canton flannel, so arranged over slight ridges and hummocks that it looked exactly like a field of drifted snow.

The tree, at the end of the room, was the largest that could be obtained, and was loaded with beautiful ornaments and decorations, and glittering with electric lights of all colours.

Patty had seen many Christmas trees, but never such a large or splendid one, and it almost took her breath away.

“I didn’t know trees ever grew so big,” she said. “How did you get it into the house?”

“It was difficult,” said Mr. Farrington. “I had to engineer the job myself. But Bobby asked for a big tree, and as the children are growing up so fast, I wanted to humour him.”

As Patty had often said, “for a millionaire, Mr. Farrington was the kindest man she ever knew.”

Though wealthy, he had no desire for display or ostentatious extravagance, but he loved to please his children, and was sufficiently rewarded by their enjoyment of the pleasures he provided.

Now, he was as frankly delighted with Bobby’s enthusiasm as Bobby was with his tree.

“Come on, old chappie,” he cried; “you shall be Santa Claus, and distribute the gifts.”

Meantime, the older ones were admiring the decorations of the room. Round the walls were smaller evergreen trees of varying heights, giving the effect of a clearing in a grove of evergreens. The ceiling had been draped across with dark blue material, and was studded with stars, made of tiny electric lights.

Bunches and wreaths of holly, tied with red ribbons, gave a touch of colour to the general effect, and in one corner beneath a green arched bower, a chime of bells pealed softly at intervals.

Altogether, the whole place breathed the very spirit of Christmas, and so perfect were the appointments, that no false note marred the harmony of it all.

“Now for the presents!” cried Bobby. “Oh, daddy, there’s my ’lectric railroad! Won’t you other people wait till I see how it works?”

The others all laughed at the eager, apologetic little face, as Bobby found it impossible to curb his impatience to see his new toy.

It was indeed a fine electric railway, and every one became interested as Mr. Farrington began to take it from its box and put the parts together.

“This is the way it goes, dad,” said Roger, kneeling on the floor beside his father.

“No, this way,” said Kenneth, as he adjusted some of the parts.

Quite content to wait for their gifts, Mrs. Farrington and the girls stood round watching the proceedings with interest, and soon Patty and Elise were down on the floor, too, breathlessly waiting the completion of the structure, and cheering gaily as the first train went successfully round the long track. Other trains followed, switches were set, signals opened or closed, bridges crossed, and all the manoeuvres of a real railroad repeated in miniature.

“I haven’t had so much fun since I was a kid,” said Kenneth, rising from the floor and mopping his heated brow with his handkerchief.

“Nor I!” declared Mr. Farrington. “I’d rather rig up that toy for that boy of mine than—than to own a real railroad!”

“I believe you would!” said his wife, laughing. “And now, suppose you see what Santa Claus has for the rest of us.”

“Father’s all in,” said Roger. “You sit on that heap of snow, dad, and Kenneth and I will unload these groaning branches.”

Bobby was too absorbed in his cars to think of anything else, so the little girls acted as messengers to distribute the gifts from the tree.

And this performance was a lengthy one.

Parcel after parcel, daintily wrapped and tied, was given to Patty, and, of course, the Farringtons had many more.

But Patty had a great quantity, for knowing where she was to spend her Christmas, all her young friends had sent gifts to her at the Farringtons’, and the accumulation was almost as great as Elise’s.

“I’m helpless,” said Patty, as she sat with her lap full of gifts, boxes and papers strewn all about her on the floor, and Louise or Hester still bringing her more parcels.

“Let me help you,” said Kenneth, as he picked up a lot of her belongings.

As he was only a dinner guest, of course Kenneth had no such array of gifts, though the Farringtons had given him some pretty trifles, and Patty gave him a charming little Tanagra statuette she had brought from Florence.

“See what Elise gave me,” he remarked, as he showed the bronze paper-knife. “Jolly, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed,” returned Patty, relieved to see that Elise had not given him the ring after all. “It’ll be fine to cut your briefs when you’re a real out-and-out lawyer. What are briefs, anyway?”

“Little girls shouldn’t use words of which they don’t know the meaning,” said Kenneth, reprovingly.

“Well, anyway, if they’re brief enough, they won’t need cutting,” returned Patty, saucily, and then returned to the opening of her own presents.

She had pretty little gifts from Hilda Henderson, Lorraine Hamilton, Clementine Morse, and many of the other girls, some of whom she had not seen since her return to New York.

“Isn’t it lovely to have so many friends?” said she, looking over her pile of gifts at Kenneth.

“Do you love them all?” he asked, smiling back at her happy face.

“Oh, indeed I do. Not exactly because they’ve given me all these pretty things, for I love the girls just as much in the summer time as at Christmas. But because they’re my friends, and so,—I love them.”

“Boys are your friends, too,” suggested Kenneth.

“Of course they are!” Patty agreed; “and I love them, too. I guess I love everybody.”

“Rather a big order,” said Roger, coming up just then. “Loving everybody, you can’t give a very large portion to each one.”

“No,” said Patty, pretending to look downcast. “Now, isn’t that too bad! Well, never mind, I’ve plenty of gratitude to go round, anyway. And I offer you a big share of that, Roger, for this silver box.”

“Do you like it? Oh, please like it, Patty.”

“Of course I do; it’s exquisite workmanship, and I shall use it for,—well, it seems most too prosaic,—but it’s exactly the right shape and size for hairpins!”

“Then use it for ’em! Why not?” cried Roger, evidently pleased that Patty could find a use for his gift.

“And see what Ken gave me,” went on Patty, as she held up a small crystal ball. “I’ve long wanted a crystal, and this is a beauty.”

“What’s it for?” asked Roger, curiously; “it looks like a marble.”

“Marble, indeed! Why, Roger, it’s a crystal, a Japanese rock crystal.”

“Isn’t it glass?”

“No, ignorant one! ’Tis not glass, but a curio of rare and occult value. In it I read the future, the past, and the present.”

“Yes, it is a present, I know,” said Roger, and in the laugh at this sally the subject was dropped, but Roger secretly vowed to look up the subject of crystals and find out why Patty was so pleased with a marble.

“Elise is simply snowed under,” said Kenneth, as they heard rapturous exclamations from the other side of the room, where Elise was examining her gifts.

“Think of it!” cried Patty; “she had everything a girl could possibly want yesterday, and now to-day she has a few bushels more!”

It was literally true. Getting free, somehow, of her own impedimenta, Patty ran over to see Elise’s things.

“You look like a fancy bazaar gone to smash,” she declared, as she saw Elise in the midst of her Christmas portion.

“I feel like an International Exhibition,” returned Elise. “I’ve gifts from all parts of the known world!”

“And unknown!” said Kenneth, picking up various gimcracks of whose name or use he had no idea.

“But this is what I like best,” she went on, smiling at Kenneth, as she held up the dainty little card-case he had given her. “I shall use this only when calling on my dearest friends.”

“Good for you!” he returned. “Glad you like it. And as I know you’ve lots of dearest friends, I’ll promise, when it’s worn out, to give you another.”

Elise looked a trifle disappointed at this offhand response to her more earnest speech, but she only smiled gaily, and turned the subject.