"Mercy sakes!" she cried, and her face rivaled in color the Santa Claus reds, as she met the laughing eyes of her host.

She came back with her parcel, much flurried and still scarlet of face, while squeals of laughter and gay sallies rang about her.

After that there was more heed, and the distribution of presents went on without further hindrance.

The big bag was empty at last, and Santa Claus exclaimed with a sigh: "Oh, but it's hot! I say, let's get off some of this toggery!" He slipped himself out of his fur coat, pulled off his cap and his mask—and there was David Collins, smiling blithely to the company!

The others were quick in following his example, and Madam Santa Claus stood revealed as laughing Polly, with Patricia, Leonora, Blue, and Doodles clustered round her.

Then there was plenty to say, many thanks to be given, and much chatter and laughter. In the midst of it all, Nelson Randolph made himself heard:—

"Ye men-folk, listen! I am glad to share my rewards with you, so go ahead, David and Blue and Doodles, and obtain as much tribute as possible under the mistletoe!"

"How can you share what you haven't got and never had and don't know as you ever will have?" laughed Miss Crilly.

He turned toward the saucy speaker and shook his finger sternly.

"Jilting me, and then taunting me of my failure! Katharine Crilly, perhaps before midnight the slipper will be on the other foot!"

This brought a hubbub of applause and merriment, and the ladies backed away from the charmed circle and giggled and talked gayly among themselves.

But Christmas presents are bewitching things, and it was not long before mistletoe was all forgotten in the beauties of fine needlework, the mysteries of new stitches, and the attractions of dainty knickknacks. David and Blue and Doodles succeeded in making momentary captives of Mrs. Tenney, Mrs. Winslow Teed. and Miss Lily, while Polly and Patricia were several times arrested on their heedless ways across the room.

Nelson Randolph seemed to have eyes only for Miss Crilly, although once Polly almost walked into his hands. A short but exciting race she led him before dodging behind Miss Mullaly's chair and asking breathlessly if the mistletoe was all over the room.

He halted and looked round on the laughing company.

"My word of honor! I forgot!—Lady Polly, I humbly beg your gracious pardon!" He bowed low.

"Granted, Sir Rogue!" she replied, dropping a curtsy.

Full of the spirit of mischief, Patricia slipped away to the piano. And so the waltzing began.

Of course, everybody knew what to expect from their "men-folk" partners unless they were exceedingly wary, and only an occasional couple whirled into the enchanted circle.

Ice cream and cakes were succeeded by music and the singing of carols, until somebody suggested that it was time to go home.

The host took out his watch.

"I shall not open the door for anybody yet," he declared. "Only ten o'clock! Master Lark will give us another song!"

But before the command had been obeyed, the telephone rang lustily.

"Oh, is it!" Mrs. Randolph heard her husband say. "Thank you all, and a Merry Christmas to every one of you!"

When he returned he nodded smilingly to her, and then Doodles gave a funny little sleepy song that none of the others had heard,—"The Land of I-dunno-where."

Afterwards came more carols, until Blue and Doodles had to hurry away lest they miss the last car to Foxford.

The all-day guests began to put on their wraps, word was sent to bring up the car, and all was bustle and happy words and Merry Christmases in abundance. Each guest carried a pretty basket filled with gifts from the host and hostess, and it was nearly eleven before the last load was off, with the sleighful of young folks to keep it company.

Nelson Randolph and his wife went silently back to the deserted living-room.

"Seems kind of lonely, doesn't it?" she said.

"Not a bit!" he replied, leading her under the mistletoe and claiming his reward.

"They did have a good time," she said happily.

"The best, I'll warrant, that they've had for a decade." He looked down at his wife searchingly.

"What is it?" she smiled.

"You didn't care, did you?"

"For what?"

He tossed his head toward the branch above them.

"No, indeed!" she replied. "Why should I?"

"I didn't think you would," he said slowly; "but some women would have had a fit!"

"I wasn't built that way," she laughed. "I think I enjoyed it more than any of the rest of you!"

"My dearest wife!" he said gravely, while his lips found their favorite spot where a curl strayed over her forehead,—"My dearest wife!"

She heard with almost a start. Did he realize his words, or was it simply an impulsive phrase? A story had been told her once—but, no, that did not belong to Christmas Eve!

"It was all a happening," he went on. "I spied the mistletoe when I was coming home, and it set me to wondering if it wouldn't help out; so I brought it along. I wanted those dear women to have a real Christmas merry-making, not a sham affair. Take such folks, they'll generally sit around and talk, and laugh a little, and think they are celebrating something. I wanted them to have a young Christmas. And I didn't catch anybody after all," he ended, a plaintive note in his voice.

"You didn't try to catch anybody, did you?" she smiled.

"What ever put such a thing into your head?" he demanded fiercely.

She laughed. "I have seen you a few times before to-night."

He frowned—then broke into a chuckle.

"Bless you!" he said fervently.

"Nelson Randolph!" she suddenly cried out, trying to break away from him, "The windows! I forgot!"

"What's the matter with them?" he twinkled. "They're all shut."

"But the shades! They're up!—Nelson!"

"What if they are?" he returned comfortably.

"Somebody may look in!"

He smilingly held her tight. "If any wanderer is abroad in this cold, he ought to be rewarded with a picture of domestic bliss."

"But if Mrs. Betts should be coming home late!—"

"She'd probably be disappointed that it was only I, instead of some other woman's husband."

"Nelson, do let me go!...I think we might find easier seats," she laughed, as she came back to him.

He turned her toward the little mantel clock. It was two minutes of twelve.

"Almost Christmas morning!" she said softly. "I wonder if they'll call us up to-night."

"Hardly. We should have heard before. Everything was complete at ten o'clock."

"How surprised they were!" she mused smilingly. "I'm so glad you did it for them."

"I am glad you did it!" he amended.

She started to reply, but he lifted a detaining finger. The city hall clock was striking the hour.

"My princess,"—his lips touched her own,—"I wish you the joyfulest Christmas—"

"Ting! ting! Ting! ti-i-ng!" broke in imperiously.

"Go," he urged, loosing his clasp.

"Oh, Mis' Randolph! is that you?" came in Miss Crilly's clear voice. "We all wish you a merry, merry Christmas, and we thank you more than we can ever tell if we live to be a hundred years old! They piled into my room to wait till Christmas morning, for they would have me do the talking, though I can't do it half so well as some of the rest of 'em! Oh, you don't know how surprised we were! We stood talking in my door. Mis' Albright and Miss Mullaly and Miss Major and I, and I said, 'Come in and sit down!' So I struck a light, and happened to glance this way! Well, I gave one scream, and looked round to make sure where I was; and Miss Mullaly she squealed out, 'How came that here?' Then I spun across the room lively! And when I picked up your card with its dear little piece of mistletoe—well, you could have knocked me down easy! We heard little shouts and laughs all up and down, and Miss Major said, 'I wonder—' and ran right off to her room quick. Then the others caught on, and they went! I had to follow, of course, to see! And when we found there was a 'phone in every room—we just didn't know what to do! Why, if I wake up in the night I shall want to run over here to feel of it, just to make sure it is true! To think of your doing it for us!"

"I didn't! It is Mr. Randolph you ought to be thanking, not me! He—"

There was a dash across the room and the receiver was caught from her hand.

"No, no! I had nothing to do with it! I only filled my wife's order—that's all!"

"Nelson Randolph!" she expostulated. "Let me have the telephone!"

But he shook his head. "Thank you, Miss Crilly, on her behalf! I'm mighty glad you like them. What's that? Oh, well, if she did, I should be there beside her, thanking Him for giving me so good a wife!"

"What are you talking about? I want to know!"

With a smile he relinquished the instrument.

"I heard you say that! I told him that Miss Mullaly said you ought to get down on your knees every day of your life and thank the Lord for giving you such a good husband."

"You can tell Miss Mullaly that is just what I do!"

"My! I will. Isn't this fun, to be talking with you this way!—and at midnight, too! Oh, why didn't I think of it when he was there! Well, you thank him for us all! You ought to have heard us gabble when we found those five-dollar gold pieces in our baskets! It was lovely of him to do it! And those shoes you gave me—did you crochet them yourself?"

"Certainly."

"All those stitches for me! They're beautiful! I've always wished I had some of that kind. And—just think!—I shouldn't be here to-night if it hadn't been for you! Oh, I couldn't thank you enough if I should live to be a thousand years old! You'll be sure and come to our tree, won't you?"

"We will look in on you some time during the evening. We can run away from the Dudleys' for a little while."

"Well, I am so full of happiness I believe one drop more would make my eyes spill over! I never thought I should chime in with Mis' Puddicombe, but to-night I do! June Holiday Home is the gate of heaven—and all because of you and Polly!"

THE END