<h2><SPAN name="chapter_xii" id="chapter_xii"></SPAN><i>CHAPTER XII</i></h2>
<h3><i>The Christmas Tree</i></h3>
<p><span class="first">Christmas</span> morning Marian awoke very early. She slipped out of bed
and went to the window. A few stars were still in the sky, though
the gray dawn was stealing up the land. In a few minutes the church
bells pealed out upon the wintry air. Marian folded her hands and
thought of the shepherds and the wise men, the little infant Jesus
in the manger and all the rest of the beautiful story. But it was
cold by the window and she determined to get back into bed till she
should be called. Then she suddenly remembered that this was "first
thing in the morning" and that she need not wait to open Miss
Dorothy's locked clothes-press. She could find out what was there.</p>
<p>So she softly struck a match, lighted her candle and tiptoed across
the floor, first taking the key from its place on the mantel. For a
moment a wild hope came to her that it might be a Christ<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</SPAN></span>mas tree, a
little one, behind that locked door, but that idea faded away for
she remembered that Miss Dorothy had said, "I would like to set up a
Christmas tree for you, dearie, but it is your grandma's house and I
would not have the right to do it if she disapproves," and so it
could not possibly be a Christmas tree.</p>
<p>She set down her candle, unlocked the door and felt for what should
hang on the knob inside. As she did so she smothered a little cry of
delight for her hand grasped a well-filled stocking. Quickly
unfastening it, she skurried back to her room with the treasure. In
another moment she was snuggled down under the warm covers examining
the contents of her stocking. It held all the foolish and pleasant
things which such stockings usually hold, and to these were added
sundry little gifts. A note pinned on the outside read:</p>
<div class="block" style="width: 450px;">
<p style="text-indent: 0px;">"<span class="smcap">Dearest Marian</span>:<br/></p>
<p>"I hope you will like your stocking. It is exactly such as Patty
will have, and I know you will be pleased to have it so. A Merry
Christmas from all of us at Revell.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0em; text-align: center;">"Lovingly yours,</p>
<p style="margin-top: 0em; text-align: right;"><span class="smcap">Dorothy Robbins</span>."</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</SPAN></span>A stocking just like Patty's! What joy! Perhaps at that very moment
Patty was looking at hers. It was so delightful to open the small
packages, to find a beautiful paper-doll from Miss Emily, a funny
cheap toy from each of the boys: a silly monkey, a quacking duck and
a jumping jack; a little fairy tale book from Patty, and oh, wonder!
the Roman sash from Miss Dorothy. Even Mr. Robbins and Aunt Barbara
had contributed, the former a little purse with a ten cent piece in
it, and the latter a box of her famous nut candy. Surely never was a
stocking more appreciated and more gloated over.</p>
<p>It was broad daylight and her grandmother was calling her before
Patty realized that her candle had burned down to its socket and
that it was time to get up. She huddled her gifts back into the
stocking and hurried to get bathed and dressed, for a day beginning
so delightfully must surely have more happiness in it. And indeed
this did seem to be so, for though her presents from her
grandparents were, as usual, useful, among them was a set of furs,
just what Marian had longed for since she saw Patty's, and there was
also a little typewriter for her very self from<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</SPAN></span> her grandpa.
Marian's mustard seeds were surely doing their work.</p>
<p>There were buckwheat cakes for breakfast, too, and Heppy beckoned
Marian to the kitchen afterward. A row of mince pies stood on the
table, and at the end of the row was a little scalloped one, "for
you," said Heppy. There was a pair of queerly shaped figures, too,
among the ginger-snaps. Heppy gave a funny chuckle as she picked
them out. "I guess nobody'd know what they're intended for," she
said. "I guess I won't go into the sculping business, for I find I'm
no hand at making figgers."</p>
<p>But Marian was as delighted with these as if they had been perfect
and bore them with the rest of her things to show Mrs. Hunt.</p>
<p>Her grans had smiled indulgently when she showed her stocking, but
had not seemed to think very much of it. Mrs. Otway said she
supposed Miss Dorothy had paid a pretty penny for the sash, and it
was more than she ought to have done. Mr. Otway thought Marian must
be too big a girl to care for jumping-jacks and such foolishness,
but that was the most that was said.</p>
<p>One of the events of Christmas day had always<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</SPAN></span> been the visit to
Mrs. Hunt, for this usually meant the best of the day's doings, and
Marian was always in a hurry to get off, but this time she was not
in such haste, for she liked to linger over her delightful stocking,
and enjoyed trying her typewriter while her grandfather showed her
how to use it. So it was not till her elders set out for church that
she was ready. Her cough shut her out of any churchgoing for a
while, but she begged to wear her new furs to show Mrs. Hunt, and
was given consent.</p>
<p>The church bells were all ringing as she entered Mrs. Hunt's door.
"I thought you wouldn't get here at all," said Mrs. Hunt in response
to Marian's "Merry Christmas!" "I was getting real anxious about
you. Come right in out of the cold. What made you so late,
chickadee?"</p>
<p>"Because it has been such a glad morning," Marian answered. "I don't
care anything about moving mountains any more, though it would have
been nice to have a tree, too."</p>
<p>"It would, would it? Well, I don't know. Is that for me?" as Marian
presented the book of photographs. "Well, I declare, isn't that you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</SPAN></span>
all over? This is a Christmas gift worth having. What a Miss Dorothy
it is. Come, kiss me, dearie, you couldn't have given me anything I
like better. Now tell me what has made you so glad."</p>
<p>Then Marian displayed her stocking and her furs, and was describing
her typewriter when Mrs. Hunt said: "Then I suppose you won't care
about what I have for you."</p>
<p>"Oh, Auntie Hunt, you know I always care," returned Marian
reproachfully. "I never had a Christmas stocking before, and I did
so want furs."</p>
<p>"Bless her dear heart! Auntie Hunt was only teasing you a little.
Well, I don't believe what I have will wait much longer, so perhaps
we'd better go look at it." And she led the way to the parlor.</p>
<p>Marian wondered at this, for she was not such a stranger as to be
taken there even upon such a day as Christmas. What could Mrs. Hunt
have in there that she couldn't bring into the sitting-room? She had
always had Marian's present and her little basket of goodies set on
a side table and why must they be in the parlor to-day?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</SPAN></span> She
wondered, too, why Mrs. Hunt fumbled at the door-knob and rattled it
a little before she went in, but when she saw at the end of the room
a bright and dazzling Christmas tree, she forgot all else. It was
such a glittering, shining affair, all wonderful ornaments and
gleaming tinsel, and was a joy to look upon, from the flying angel
at the tip-top to the group of sheep on a mossy pasture at the foot.
The impossible had happened. Faith and works had triumphed. The
might of the mustard seed's strength had been proved, and Marian
dropped on her knees before the marvelous vision. "Oh, I am so
happy, Lord. I am so much obliged to you for your loving-kindness,"
she breathed.</p>
<p>"That's just like her," said Mrs. Hunt nodding her head as if to
some one behind her. "You are pleased, aren't you, chickadee? Well,
now, who do you think gave you all those pretty things? Mr. Hunt cut
the tree and brought the moss, I'm ready to confess. I helped with
the trimming, but who did the rest?"</p>
<p>"Miss Dorothy," promptly replied Marian.</p>
<p>Mrs. Hunt shook her head. "Wrong guess," she said laughing. "Stand
right there and shut<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</SPAN></span> your eyes while I count ten, then see if you
can make a better guess."</p>
<p>Marian did as she was told, squeezing her eyes tight together lest
she should be tempted to peep at the tree. As "ten" fell from Mrs.
Hunt's lips her eyes opened, not upon the tree, for between her and
it stood the figure of a tall man who held out his arms to her.
Marian stood stock still in amazed wonder, gazing at him fixedly,
then in a voice that rang through the room she cried: "Papa! Papa!"
and in an instant his arms were around her and she was fairly
sobbing on his breast.</p>
<p>"It's almost more than the child can bear," murmured Mrs. Hunt
wiping her eyes. "I don't know that it was right to surprise her so.
Maybe it would have been better to prepare her." But Marian was
herself in a little while, ready to hear how this wonderful thing
happened.</p>
<p>"It was all on account of that little book of photographs," her
father told her. "My longing to see my dear little daughter grew
stronger and stronger as I turned over the pages, and when I came to
the last picture I simply could not stand it.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</SPAN></span> I rushed out, looked
up the next sailing, and found I could make a steamer sailing from
Bremen the next morning, and before night I was on my way to that
city. I found I had a couple of hours to spare in Bremen, and I
remembered that my little girl had said that she had never had a
Christmas tree, so I went up town, bought a jumble of Christmas
toys, and took them to the steamer with me. I reached here last
night, and my dear old friend Mrs. Hunt took me in. Between us all
we set up the Christmas tree, and arranged the surprise. I felt as
if I could not spend another Christmas day away from my dear little
daughter when she wanted me so much. Do you think they will let me
in at the brick house, Marian?" he asked holding her close.</p>
<p>"I am sure they will," she answered with conviction. "I've found out
that nobody is as cross inside as they seem outside. Even Heppy is
just like a bear sometimes, but she has the most kind thinkings when
you get at them."</p>
<p>It was hard to leave the beautiful tree, but even that was not so
great and splendid a thing as this home-coming of Marian's father,
and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</SPAN></span> when the churchgoers had all gone by, the two went up street
together, hand in hand. At the door of the brick house they paused.</p>
<p>"Tell them I am here and ask them if I may come in, Marian," said
her father, as he stood on the steps.</p>
<p>Marian went in, and entered the sitting-room. Her grandmother was
taking off her bonnet. "It was a good sermon, my dear," she was
saying to her husband. "Peace and good-will to all men, not to some,
but to all, our own first." She smoothed out her gloves
thoughtfully. "Eight years," she murmured, "eight years."</p>
<p>Marian stood in the doorway. "Papa has come," she said simply. "He
is on the door-step, but he won't come in till you say he may."</p>
<p>With a trembling little cry her grandmother ran to the door. Mr.
Otway grasped the back of the chair behind which he was standing.
His head was bowed and he was white to the lips. "Tell him to come
in," he said.</p>
<p>Marian ran out to see her grandmother, her grave, quiet, dignified
grandmother, sobbing in her son's arms, and he kissing her bowed
head and murmuring loving words to her.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</SPAN></span>"Grandpa says please come in," said Marian giving the message with
added politeness, and with one arm around his mother and the other
grasping Marian's hand, Ralph Otway entered his father's house to
meet the hand clasp of one who for more than eight years had
forbidden him entrance.</p>
<p>The remainder of Marian's day was spent in making visits to Mrs.
Hunt's parlor and to her grandmother's sitting-room. When the
grown-ups' talk began to grow uninteresting and herself unnoticed
she would slip away to gloat over the Christmas tree, then when she
had firmly fixed in her mind just what hung on this side and on
that, she would go back to the sitting-room to nestle down by her
father, or to turn over the contents of her stocking.</p>
<p>It was during this process that she heard part of a conversation
which interested her very much. "Herbert Robbins wrote me not long
ago to ask if I could suggest a fitting man for one of the
engineering departments of the college," said Grandpa Otway. "I told
him I would consider the matter, and if any one occurred to me I
would let him know. How would you like the work,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</SPAN></span> Ralph?" he went on
in his measured tones. "Revell is not far away; it is a progressive
college in a pleasant community."</p>
<p>Marian laid down her stocking and came nearer.</p>
<p>"I should like to look into the matter," said her father
thoughtfully.</p>
<p>"I would advise your seeing Robbins," said his father. "He can give
you the particulars." Then he added somewhat hesitatingly, "I should
like—I should be pleased to have my son one of the faculty of my
own college."</p>
<p>Marian's father looked up brightly. "Thank you, father; that settles
it. If it is as good a thing as now appears I shall not hesitate to
accept if I am given the opportunity."</p>
<p>"Are you going to see Patty?" whispered Marian, "and couldn't I go,
too?"</p>
<p>Her father looked down at her with a smile. "I'd like you to go if
your grandmother is willing."</p>
<p>Therefore before the holidays were over Marian had the pleasure of
showing off her new furs as well as her dear papa to Patty and the
rest of the Robbinses, and before she came back it was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</SPAN></span> settled that
her father was to go to Revell to live. Beyond that nothing of much
consequence was decided at that time.</p>
<p>Patty and Marian were jubilant over the arrangement. "Perhaps you
will come here to live some day," Patty said to her friend.</p>
<p>"I wish I could," said Marian. "Do you think papa will need me more
than the grans, Patty?"</p>
<p>"Of course," returned Patty, "for your grandfather has a wife to
take care of him and she has a husband, and it isn't fair they
should have you, too; besides a father is a nearer relation than a
grandfather, so of course he has a right to you." And this quite
settled it in Marian's opinion.</p>
<p>The little girls had two happy days together when Marian enjoyed
Patty's tree and her Christmas gifts only in a little less degree
than her own. She was pleased to find that Puff was already a great
pet, and that Patty had all sorts of mysterious things to tell about
him; of how he would steal out at night and become a real prince
between midnight and dawn, and of how Miggy Wig had deserted the
cave and was no longer a doll, but that she had worked her
en<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</SPAN></span>chantments only so far as to turn Puff from a toad into a kitten
during the day, so the little cat did actually appear to be more
than an ordinary animal to both children.</p>
<p>It took only a short time for Marian and her father to become great
chums, and they had many good times together sharing many secrets
which they did not tell the grans.</p>
<p>Miss Dorothy did not go home very often during the winter, so on
Saturdays and Sundays when her father came home from Revell, Marian
took many pleasant walks with the two. Sometimes they made an
excursion to the city, when real shopping took the place of
make-believes.</p>
<p>Marian went back to school after the holidays and never failed to
stop every day to see Mrs. Hunt. It was in the spring that she
learned from this good friend that her father did not tell her all
his secrets, for one day when they were talking of that happy
Christmas day Marian said, "What do you suppose Miss Dorothy did
with the Christmas gift I gave her? I have never seen it anywhere
and she has never said a word about it."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</SPAN></span>"What was it?" asked Mrs. Hunt.</p>
<p>"The photograph of papa that he sent me. I wanted to give her
something very precious and that was the best thing I had."</p>
<p>To Marian's surprise Mrs. Hunt threw back her head and laughed till
the tears came, though Marian could not see that she had said
anything very funny.</p>
<p>When Mrs. Hunt had wiped her eyes she remarked: "We shall miss Miss
Dorothy next year."</p>
<p>"Why, isn't she coming back to teach?" asked Marian in dismay.</p>
<p>Mrs. Hunt shook her head.</p>
<p>"Oh, why not?"</p>
<p>"Ask your papa; he knows," said Mrs. Hunt laughing again.</p>
<p>But before Marian had a chance to do this, Patty came to make Mrs.
Hunt the long-promised visit, and it was Patty who guessed the
secret. "Did you know that Miss Dorothy is not coming back here next
year?" was one of Marian's first questions.</p>
<p>Patty nodded. "I heard her say so to Emily."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</SPAN></span>"Then you will have her and I shall not," returned Marian jealously.</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, I think you will have her as much as I," returned Patty,
"for she is making all sorts of pretty things and I think she is
going to be married."</p>
<p>"Be married?" Such a possibility had never occurred to Marian. "Oh,
dear," she began, then she brightened up as she thought perhaps it
might be the new rector Miss Dorothy was going to marry; in that
case she would be living in Greenville. She remembered that the
young man often walked home with her teacher. It would be a very
nice arrangement, Marian thought. "Is she going to live in
Greenville?" she asked, feeling her way.</p>
<p>"No," Patty laughed. "I don't think so."</p>
<p>Then perhaps the young rector was going to another town. "Has she
told you where she is going to live and who she is going to marry?"
asked Marian coming straight to the point.</p>
<p>"No, but I know she is going to live in Revell, and I hear her and
Emily talk, talk, talk about some one named Ralph." Patty put her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</SPAN></span>
hand over her mouth, and looked at Marian with laughing eyes.</p>
<p>"Why—why<span style="letter-spacing: -2px;">——</span>" Marian looked at Patty for further enlightenment, but
Patty was only laughing. "Why, that's my papa's name," said Marian.</p>
<p>Patty nodded. "That's just who I think it is." And that was
precisely who it was.</p>
</div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />