Part 15 (1/2)

”Yes,” said Tom calmly. ”I'll carry them down and put basket and all in the tool-house for the night;” and he was gone before any one could stop him, and Bella, with a deep breath of relief, was able to think of other things with an easy mind.

It was splendid, they both thought, to come back and find their father awaiting them once more, glad to welcome them, and eager to hear all their doings. By the time Rocket had been taken home to his supper and bed, the afternoon had gone and darkness fallen, and then they all had tea by the light of the blazing fire in the kitchen, which was sweet with the mingled scents of the little Christmas tree and one of Bella's pots of Roman hyacinths, which she had given to her father. There was something of a festive air, too, about the little gathering. Father was home, Christmas was at hand, and they had earned enough that day to keep them all in comfort for another week. They had got in a store of coal and wood, the rent was ready in the rent-box, and their minds were free from debt or pressing need.

There was much to tell and much to hear as they lingered over their meal, but Tom and Bella found it far from easy to talk of their day's doings without bringing in any reference to the 'surprises' now lying in the tool-shed, and more than once they were thankful that the light in the room was flickering and uneven, for it helped to hide embarra.s.sed looks and quick blushes, which would certainly have roused suspicion if Charlie's or Margery's quick eyes had seen them.

Charlie was in a state of great delight with the three s.h.i.+llings, which was his share of the holly money. ”What shall you do with yours, Tom?” he asked, but fortunately he did not wait for an answer. ”Do you know what I am going to do with mine?--But no, I shan't tell you yet; you'll know soon, and then we shall have a fine time.”

”I know,” said Margery, who was full of curiosity, and wanted to surprise Charlie's secret from him, ”Rabbits!”

”Rabbits!” scornfully, ”I wouldn't be bothered with them!”

”Canaries?” asked Bella, ”or bees, or pigeons?”

”Never you mind,” said Charlie, somewhat hastily. ”It isn't any good for you to go on guessing. You'll know when you see.” And he pointedly turned the conversation, and actually managed to go to bed with his secret still kept.

So did Bella and Tom, but theirs weighed on Bella's mind far more heavily than did Charlie's on his, and she was never more glad to get up than she was on that Christmas morning.

It was still so dark that she could not see Margery in her little bed across the room, but she heard her breathing steadily and deeply, and as she did not speak when Bella moved about the room a little, Bella knew she must be fast asleep. She did not even move when Bella struck a match and lighted a candle, nor when she opened the bedroom door and crept downstairs.

It had become Bella's habit now to go down first and light the kitchen fire, so if they heard her no one would take any notice, and, once downstairs, it was easy enough to open the front door and slip out.

It was not so easy to grope one's way to the tool-house and find the hamper and its contents. It was a bitterly cold morning, a keen wind swept along the garden path, and every now and then something soft and cold touched Bella's face, or rested on her hair.

”I believe it is snowing,” she said, as she held out her hand to try to catch a flake. In the sky the stars were still twinkling, and suddenly from somewhere in the distance the bells rang out their glad peal.

To Bella out there alone with the stars and the snow and the bells, it all seemed wonderfully beautiful and impressive. Her thoughts flew to her mother, and the past Christmases when she had been with them, and, as she turned her face up to the sky and the stars, it seemed to Bella as though they must be looking straight into each other's eyes.

”We don't forget you, mother,” she whispered. ”Even when we are talking and laughing, we'll be thinking of you too, and wanting you;” and one little star flashed and gleamed as though it understood and answered her.

In the tool-house she found the hamper and its precious contents quite safe, and gathering all the parcels in her ap.r.o.n, she replaced the cabbage leaves, and scurried back to the house. How she got in and up the stairs she scarcely knew.

Margery stirred as she entered and spoke, ”Is that you, Bella?”

”Yes,” said Bella, ”I'm going down now to light the fire and get father some tea. You go to sleep again; it is too early to wake up yet;” and sleepy Margery turned over in her snug bed and was asleep almost before Bella had ceased speaking.

It was not easy to stow away a dozen paper-covered parcels in a small s.p.a.ce, and without making a sound. Bella found this the hardest part of the whole task, until it entered her head to lay them flat under her bed.

”It's lucky I make my bed myself!” she thought, as she drew the bedclothes straight again. ”It is a splendid place, nothing shows a bit!” and she hurried about her usual tasks full of excitement and relief.

There was a Christmasy look about the world out of doors, and a Christmasy feeling throughout the house indoors. The sun shone, and a few flakes of snow fell in a lazy, casual way--enough to convince Margery that Christmas had really come, but not enough to inconvenience anybody else. To Margery snow was a part of Christmas, which was not complete without it, and as soon as she stepped out of bed she ran to the window and looked out anxiously.

”Well,” she said doubtfully, ”there is snow, but very little. I hope it doesn't mean that it is going to be a very little Christmas.”

Long before the day was over she admitted that, in spite of there being only a very little snow, it was one of the nicest Christmases she had ever known in all her life.

Almost as soon as their father was dressed and settled in his arm-chair by the fire, Aunt Maggie arrived with a big and heavy basket on her arm.

”Happy Christmas to you all!” she cried cheerfully. ”Isn't it good to be together again? How are you feeling this morning, William?”

”Pretty well, thank you, Maggie, and glad enough to be home again!

You are coming to dinner with us, of course?”

”No, I am not, thank you,” said Aunt Maggie; ”an old friend of mine is coming to dinner with me. She was alone, and I was alone, so I asked her.