Chapter III: Part 3

The doctor had made every effort to discover the whereabouts of Bubbles, but had received no news of her from any of the hospitals.

"If she is still with the gipsies, she would hardly have reached the city yet," Eleanor was told for her comfort. "You may find her in Baltimore when you get there," the doctor said further, and Eleanor was obliged to be satisfied with this for the present.

As they passed the gate of her own home, Eleanor hugged Ada closer and looking up at her uncle said, "I never want to see my home again, Uncle Heath, until mamma is in it."

He smiled down at her. "You probably will not, dear child. We shall keep you with us as long as we can."

"I hope there won't be any children in the cars," continued the child, "for I might give them the whooping-cough."

"We are going to have the little compartment at the end of the parlor car, and we can be all to ourselves in there."

"Oh, can we? I've always wanted to travel in that little room, Uncle Heath. Did you get it on purpose?"

"Not exactly, but being a railroad man, I had it placed at my disposal."

It was nearly dark when they reached the city. Eleanor looked out at the stiff rows of houses, secretly glad that her home was not in one of these. She did not wonder that her Cousin Florence always said that she could not bear the city. "Uncle Heath," she said, "are all cities like Baltimore, with so many, many houses all alike, with no gardens at all and hardly any trees anywhere? I don't see why they can't have a little bit of a garden in front of them, or porches to the houses, or something. Cities are very ugly, aren't they?"

"Most of them are, but some do have a section where you can see pretty gardens and porches and many trees. Washington, you know, is very attractive, and so are parts of Philadelphia."

"Yes, I know Washington is, but I most forget Philadelphia, I've not been there for so long."

"We must go there some pleasant day."

"Rock too?"

"Yes; but here we are. Run in quickly."

The door was thrown open by Aunt Dora herself, who almost lifted Eleanor off her feet in the energy of her embrace. "You dear little midget," she exclaimed, "you did come all safe and sound, didn't you?"

"Yes, I came, and so did Ada. I was so glad to see Uncle Heath."

"I knew you would be. Are you cold? No, your hands are quite warm, and oh, yes; how do you do, Ada? I've not seen you for a long time," and the doll's hand was gravely shaken by Aunt Dora, to Eleanor's delight. "Let us go right upstairs," continued Aunt Dora, holding Eleanor's hand closely in hers. "You are to have a little room next to mine. It isn't very big, but I think you and Ada will fit into it without much crowding."

"It isn't Rock's room?" said Eleanor, with a remembrance of her late trials in some such direction.

"No, he has a room back of mine. I am so glad to get home again and to have you come to us right away. It seems so very lonely without any children in the house. I can hardly wait till Rock's holiday begins, to have him with me again. I know he is counting the days."

"Yes, he wrote to me that he was. He makes a little mark on his calendar every day."

"Yes, I know; the dear child. I have been planning a number of things for the holidays, but first I must tell you about your papa; he is really getting better, and I think if he will only consent to stay long enough, that he will come back quite well." She stooped to kiss Eleanor, and then continued: "You were a dear child not to write to them of your worries."

"How did you know?"

"A little bird told me."

"Rock?"

"Maybe. We might call it a rock wren."

"Oh, Aunt Dora, has Rock had the whooping-cough?"

"Yes, several years ago."

"Did you know I had it?"

"Yes, your Uncle Heath wrote me that you had, and I have been thinking ever since, just suppose that Ada should take it!" Aunt Dora raised her hands in comic distress, and Eleanor looked gravely at her doll as if there were danger in that direction.

"Never mind," said her Aunt Dora; "she will not take it, I am sure. Now we will go down to dinner, if you are ready, and to-morrow I know the first person you will want to see."

"Florence?"

Aunt Dora nodded yes. "She is to come over to luncheon and the next day we will go out to do our Christmas shopping."

"Oh!" Eleanor was delighted, and she skipped downstairs by her aunt's side, looking very unlike the forlorn little figure waiting on the roadside for the butterman.

After dinner her uncle played dominoes with her and then her aunt took her upstairs and read a lovely fairy tale to her, and after she was snugly tucked in bed she had to have many good-night kisses before she was satisfied.

_CHAPTER VIII_

_Shopping_

Two such happy little girls they were who met the next morning; and for the first fifteen minutes they talked and laughed so hard that they nearly whooped themselves speechless for the rest of the day to make up for it, and when Eleanor, with very red weeping eyes and a puffed face found breath her first words were, "Isn't it perfectly splendid that I have the whooping-cough, too?"

And Florence, between whoops, spluttered, "Splendid."

"This is the first time I ever knew it to be cause for congratulation," said Aunt Dora laughing. "Now, this is market day, so, I am going to leave you to your own devices. I may be back before luncheon, and I may not. Meantime, make yourselves perfectly at home. You can play in the library or in Rock's room or anywhere, but in the parlor." Then she left them.

"You must see my lovely new Ada; she is a darling. Aunt Dora gave her to me, and she is such a comfort," said Eleanor. "I brought Celestine too."

"And I brought Rubina," said Florence; "she has a new hat."

"I think we'd better play in the library," said Eleanor. "It has such a nice bay window and we can have that for one house and the place over by the mantel for the other house. It is so perfectly lovely to see you again, Florence." And they, forthwith, proceeded to establish themselves for a morning's play, chattering as fast as their tongues could run, so that lunch time came before they were aware of it, and then, after all, Aunt Dora did not come home, but sent some dainties from the market and with their dolls they had luncheon at a small table in the library.

"Isn't it fine to have Rubina and Celestine together again?" said Florence. "Did Bubbles take Floridy Alabamy away with her? Poor Bubbles, I do hope your uncle will find her."

"I hope so too," returned Eleanor with a sigh. "Yes, she took her doll, but she is such a forlorn looking creature; that horrid Donald got hold of her one day and pretended she was a witch and must be burned at the stake. Bubbles found it out just in time to save her, but her hair was singed off, and she has to wear a cap all the time."

"Aren't boys horrid?" said Florence in a disgusted tone.

"Some boys," returned Eleanor; "Rock isn't."

"No, he isn't, but Dimple, I should think you would be glad to leave that Cousin Ellen family. Sister says she doesn't think that relations are a bit nice."

"Why, Florence, we are relations."

"Yes, I know. I don't suppose she means that none of them are nice. I think she means that they are so likely to think they can pick you to pieces and find fault with you just because they are relations. Most of mine are that way. You know Cousin Ellen is my mamma's cousin, too, and I never did like to see her when she used to come to our house."

"Oh, well," said Eleanor with a satisfied sigh, "we don't have to think about her any more."

Nevertheless, she did much thinking on account of Cousin Ellen and her family, that very evening. Just after dinner her Aunt Dora said: "We must make out our shopping lists, Dimple, for we are going to start out early to-morrow."

"Let me see your purse, Dimple," said Uncle Heath, looking up from his evening paper.

Eleanor obediently went upstairs and brought down her little netted purse; it had in it one dollar and two quarters.

"How many Christmas gifts do you expect this to buy?" asked Uncle Heath smiling.

"Why, let me see;" Eleanor began to count on her fingers; "mamma, one, and papa, two; you and Aunt Dora and Rock and Florence and Bubbles, I should like to get Bubbles a new doll, and I do want so much to send just a little something to Mrs. Snyder. Then I should like something for Miss Reese and I always give Sylvy a present. How many does that make? Ten, I believe."

Her uncle chinked her coins in his hand, and looked at his wife with a smile. "Then, you will have just fifteen cents apiece. I'm afraid you cannot buy very magnificent things with that amount."

"And how about your cousins, the Murdochs?" asked Mrs. Dallas quietly. "They will have no papa to buy them gifts this year, and I am afraid it will be rather a sad Christmas for them." Eleanor's speaking face clouded, and she gave a long sigh, before she said, "I don't love them very much, Aunt Dora, but--Uncle Heath, must I give them Christmas gifts? That would make five more, you know, and--no, I don't love them enough."

"Suppose, instead of being merely ill and away from you, your papa should be gone from this earth, and that, in consequence, the lovely Christmas you always have had should be a very sad one this year."

"Yes, I know," replied Eleanor thoughtfully, "but I'd have you and Uncle Heath and Aunt Nellie and all of them to give me Christmas gifts."

Her uncle laughed. "Her wounds are too recent for her to be worked upon in any such way, Dora. How much money did you say you had in your purse, Dimple?"

"A silver dollar and two quarters."

Her uncle handed the small purse back to her. "Look again; I'm afraid you don't know how to count."

Eleanor emptied the purse into her lap, and lo! instead of only one dollar there were five. She gave a scream of delight. "Oh, Uncle Heath, how dear you are. Do you truly mean this all for me?"

"What a question. What is in your purse is yours, isn't it? I told you that you didn't know how to count." And this was all the satisfaction she could get from him, although there was no doubt that Uncle Heath had slipped in the extra dollars.

"Now, I can get a doll for Bubbles, for we must find her," she said. "Now I shall have fifty cents instead of fifteen; no, I shall have more than that." She fingered the money absently. "Aunt Dora," she said after a pause, "I will get something for Cousin Ellen and all of them. To be sure they were not very nice to me, but I said hateful things, too, and I'd feel better about it if I were to send them something. I could spend twenty-five cents on each of them, you know, and, even then, I'd have more than I thought I should have for every one else."

Her Aunt Dora smiled. "What did I tell you, Heath? Well, dear, I think that will be a very good plan, and I am sure that we can find some very pretty little gifts to-morrow, perhaps for even less than twenty-five cents. Now, I tell you what I should do: I should spend the most, as you ought to do, upon your father and mother, and then get Bubbles her doll. After that we can spend the rest of the money upon the remaining persons."

This suited Eleanor exactly, and she said so. But just at this moment came a ring at the door and a telegram was handed to Mr. Dallas. He read it and looked up brightly at Eleanor. "Bubbles is found," he said; "she is at the hospital from which I have just received this telegram. I left word at each one of them that I was to be informed if a child of her description should come in. It seems she is not in a very bad state, but has a broken arm."

"Oh," Eleanor clasped her hands, "dear Uncle Heath, can we go get her right away?"

"Why, no, I'm afraid not."

Eleanor looked disappointed. "Why not?"

"First, because it is after visiting hours, and second, because a little girl with the whooping-cough would hardly be admitted into the ward of a hospital."

"Oh, I forgot that."

"She will be well taken care of, dear," said Aunt Dora. "I am very glad she is in so safe a place. To-morrow, before we do any of our shopping, we will stop at the hospital and learn how she is. It is much better to allow her to remain there till she is able to be moved safely, than to try to take her away now. You know we cannot tell yet just how she may be."

Eleanor agreed that it was best to wait. "But I hope she will be well by Christmas," she said.

As it proved, Bubbles was not in so desperately bad a condition. She had, indeed, been with the gipsies, some of whom she met as she was trudging along toward Sylvy's, after having missed seeing Mr. Snyder. The bright wagons and gay dresses attracted her and she lingered by the way to watch this troupe of wandering people. One of the men was training a restive young horse which came dashing down the road, and as Bubbles tried to get out of the way, she was struck by another horse which had become excited and had broken loose. A broken arm and some bruises were the result for Bubbles. It was at first feared that she might be injured internally, but after a week's nursing, it was found that she was not, and a portion of the encampment having been started on ahead, Bubbles was sent with them that she might sooner reach the city and be placed in a hospital where she could receive attention and communicate with her friends. She had sent word by one of the gipsy boys to Sylvy of her whereabouts but the message failed of delivery.

The two little girls waiting outside in the carriage while Mrs. Dallas made her call, greeted her eagerly, when she came out, and listened with the greatest interest to the report, asking all manner of questions. "Wasn't she glad to see you? Is she very sick? What is the matter besides the broken arm? Did the gipsies take her there? How long has she got to stay?" The questions came tumbling over one another till Mrs. Dallas declared she did not know which to answer.

"One at a time," she said laughing. "She was perfectly delighted to see me, poor little soul; she looks quite weak and miserable but she will have every care. I saw the head nurse, and she told me that Bubbles is in no danger. She has a broken arm and had a big lump on her head which made her delirious for several days. The gipsies were very kind to her and took her to the hospital. She will probably be out in a couple of weeks."

"By Christmas?" Eleanor asked.

"Yes, I hope so, at least, if she improves as they think she will. She sent her love to you and Florence, and she said that one of the gipsy children had stolen her doll, so we shall get her one to-day, instead of waiting to give it to her at Christmas. I think she would rather have that than anything else. She is perfectly content, now that she knows we are near her, and that she is to come to our house as soon as she is able. I promised that I would go to see her as often as I could."

Eleanor gave a deep sigh. "I'm so thankful," she said. "Poor little Bubbles." The child was not looking very bright, and Mrs. Dallas concluded that the shopping expedition should be very short that day.

They did their shopping in rather a funny way, for Aunt Dora thought it was not best for them to go into the shops themselves, and so, she selected the articles and brought them out to the carriage that Eleanor might approve them before they were sent home. Of course in every case she was entirely satisfied, and when they came to Florence's present that young person turned her head and shut her eyes tight that she might not get even a glimpse of the game that Aunt Dora had selected. But when it came to the present for Aunt Dora here was a quandary, till Aunt Dora suggested that they should stop before the shop where the purchase was to be made and she would send a salesman out to wait upon them while she went on to another shop where they could call for her. This plan worked very well and a pretty little candlestick for her writing desk was carefully placed among the packages in the small basket which was provided for the articles which they were to take home themselves.

The first purchase was the doll for Bubbles, and Florence suggested that it should be as much like Eleanor as possible, therefore, a fair creature with light flowing locks and blue eyes was chosen.

For her father, "a book which will make him laugh," Eleanor decided upon. "And for my blessed mamma something very lovely," and after looking at many things, a very dainty, fluffy tie was chosen because Aunt Dora said it would be easy to send it by mail. The rest of the purchases were put off till another time, and the next morning after the doll had been left at the hospital for Bubbles they continued their shopping, getting a game for Rock, a cup and saucer for Uncle Heath, a bright necktie for Sylvy, a pretty booklet for Miss Reese, and a comical little match-safe for Mrs. Snyder, "so she will think of me every time she lights her lamp," Eleanor said. After this, the Murdoch family had to be disposed of, and this took the rest of the morning, so that Eleanor returned home with an empty purse but with a well satisfied feeling at having provided for every one.

The next day was to be spent with Florence, and when Eleanor put her head on her pillow that night, although she was a very tired little girl she had before her a pleasant anticipation and no regrets. Her last thought before going to sleep was, "I am glad I got something for Cousin Ellen and the children," and she fell asleep at peace with the whole world.

When she awoke the next morning the ground was covered with snow and her aunt met her with: "I wonder if it is prudent to send the whooping-cough out of doors to-day. A fresh snow is liable to give fresh cold. Shall you be much disappointed, Dimple, if I ask you to stay at home to-day?"

"I did want to go so much," she said wistfully.

"I know you did, but although it is not very far to Florence's house, the cars will not take you there, and even if they did, I should not want you to go that way. You would best stay at home, I think, and we can make a new dress and a hat for Bubbles' doll."

At this Eleanor's face brightened and when Uncle Heath volunteered to stop at Mr. Graham's and ask if Florence could come and spend the day with Eleanor, if an opportunity occurred to send her around, Eleanor was quite satisfied. "I am glad Aunt Nellie has a carriage," she said, "for Florence will be so much more likely to come. I think it was very nice for Aunt Nell to let us go shopping in the carriage, for I couldn't have gone at all any other way."

About noon the jingle of sleigh-bells announced the approach of a sleigh, and looking out of the window there Eleanor saw Florence and her eldest sister. Florence was seen to hop out and then the sleigh drove off. Eleanor ran down into the hall to greet her cousin. "Hurry, Florence," she said. "I am so glad you came. We are dressing Bubbles' doll, at least, we are making a new dress for her, and a hat and coat. Come right upstairs."

"I can stay till three o'clock," Florence told her, "and then mamma will stop for me, and she wants you to go for a little ride in the sleigh. Should you like to?"

"Of course," Eleanor answered. "I was just wishing that I could go when I heard your bells jingling. Dr. Sullivan sometimes takes me with him at home, but not very often."

"We don't often have sleighing," returned Florence. "At least, not to last very long. I am glad we have some while you are here. Oh, Dimple, there are so many mysteries at home; I can hardly wait till Christmas. We are going to have a tree. Are you?"

"Yes, Aunt Dora says she is glad to have the excuse to have one; it seems so much more Christmassy."

They spent the next hour or two in helping to make the doll clothes, or, at least, they thought they were helping, though it must be confessed that Aunt Dora did most of the work. At three o'clock the sleigh came jingling up, and they had a fine drive out through the park and Eleanor came home with more color in her cheeks than they had worn for some weeks.

_CHAPTER IX_

_At Christmas_

The next day Eleanor was able to go over to her Aunt Nellie's, for the sun was shining brightly, and the pavements were cleared of snow. Florence and her other cousins greeted her warmly. They were all much excited over the approach of Christmas, and Eleanor was piloted up to the nursery, "Because," said Florence, "there is so much going on downstairs, and some of sister's friends will be down in our room. Mamma has gone out, but she will be back directly." And they proceeded to establish themselves and set to work industriously to finish some embroidery which each had to have ready for Christmas. They had hardly begun to work, however, when Mrs. Graham appeared, and Eleanor scurried her bit of linen out of sight, but Florence arose to the occasion with: "Mamma, Dimple and I have been talking about the Christmas party that we always have. We were wondering how we could manage it this year when we all have the whooping-cough. We have a lovely plan, though."

"Have you?" said her mother, sitting down and drawing off her gloves. "Let us hear it."

"Why," answered Florence, looking very wise as she threaded her needle, "we think it would be nice to have a whooping party."

Her mother laughed. "That's a queer sort of party. Do you mean to play Indian?"

"No, I mean we can have all the little girls and boys that are having the whooping-cough and that can't go to school or anywhere."

"And how many do you suppose that will be?"

"I don't know. I know four or five. May we have it, mamma?"

"Why, I don't know. I shall have to think about it. I suppose I should have to furnish lozenges and cough syrup for refreshments."

Florence laughed; it struck her as a very funny sort of refreshment, but she knew her mother was joking, although she added quite seriously, "We should have to be careful not to have anything very rich, you know. I think, after all, you'd best think of something else, for, a room full of children whooping and choking one after another, would be rather an unpleasant scene. Don't you think something else would be more amusing? You and Dimple put your thinking-caps on and we'll see what can be done to amuse you during the holidays."

Florence agreed to this and the two little girls proceeded with their work while they tried to think very hard, looking very sober as they stitched away. They were interrupted by the entrance of Florence's little sister Gertrude, who had been down town with her mother and who came in full of importance at having had presents provided for her to bestow at Christmas. "I've got sumpsin for ev'ybody," she said, "but I'm not going to tell."

Florence hugged her up close to her. "Won't you tell me?" she asked coaxingly.

"No," Gertrude shook her head, "I tan't tell."

"What color is the one you have for me?" Florence asked.

"It's white, an' it sumpsin to wipe your nose on. Now, I won't tell you one sing more," and she pursed up her lips tight, looking very wise while the others laughed heartily but pretended to be much mystified. These were very mysterious times, anyhow. Some one was always skurrying something under a chair or poking something into a closet whenever certain persons entered the room, and there were unfamiliar snippings of lace and silk and cambric to be seen on the floor in the nursery, so that Florence was wrought up to a pitch of curiosity rather unusual for her.

"You are to come over here right after breakfast, Christmas morning," she told Eleanor; "you and Rock. I wish you could stay here all night so that we could hang up our stockings together. I do so wish you could."

Eleanor looked a little doubtful; she did not want to neglect her Aunt Dora and her Uncle Heath, not to mention Rock. "I am afraid I couldn't do that," she said. "You know Rock will be at home and it would seem mean to leave them all on Christmas morning."

"Rock could come too; it would be such fun to have you," continued Florence, all hospitality, but Eleanor declared that would never do, and so they had to give up the plan. But, after all, it did turn out that Eleanor spent Christmas eve with her cousins, for Florence's mother decided that the children should have their Christmas tree at that time, that they might all go to Mrs. Heath Dallas' on Christmas night and see the tree that was to be prepared for Rock and Eleanor.

"Aunt Dora won't tell me anything about the tree," Eleanor told Florence, "so there's some sort of surprise, I know. Isn't it just fine that we can all be here together? I should have been so miserable at home."

"I don't see how you could have stood Cousin Ellen and have been nice to her," said Florence.

Eleanor was silent for a moment and took several stitches in the doily she was embroidering in outline stitch for her Aunt Nellie. "Well, I wasn't very nice to her," she admitted after a time. "I meant to be in the beginning, but when Don was so hateful and they treated Bubbles so mean, I just didn't care and I said anything that came into my head. Sometimes, when I got real mad, I was the sauciest girl you ever heard."

"Are you going to tell your mother?" Florence asked solemnly.

"I--I don't know. Maybe. Yes, I always tell mamma everything; somehow, it comes out whether I want it to or not. Yes, I'll tell her, but I couldn't be meek and lowly; I just couldn't. I never knew I could feel so very, very mad at any one before, but, you see, now that I am not there, I don't feel so mad, and I'm going to send the Christmas gifts, you know. I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll write to Cousin Ellen, and tell her I am sorry I was saucy, but I'll not say I am sorry about Donald, for I'm not." And Florence agreed that she could hardly be expected to.

The letter was written that very day and was tucked in the box with the Christmas gifts. It ran:

"DEAR COUSIN ELLEN:

"I hope you will have a happy Christmas. I am having a lovely time,
and Bubbles is getting along finely. Every one at the hospital
likes her and she is just as nice as she was when mamma was at
home. I thought you would be glad to know that she is not so much
hurt as we were afraid of because you sent her away and you would
feel very bad if you thought you had made her get hurt very bad.
I send you all a little Christmas gift. I hope you will like what
I send. Were you ever impudent when you were a little girl? I am
sorry I was.

"Yours
"ELEANOR DALLAS."

Eleanor submitted the letter to her Aunt Nellie who read it and laughing, said: "You have said just the right thing, Dimple, and if Cousin Ellen can remember as far back as a certain occasion when she was a little girl I think she could answer, 'yes,' to your last question."

"Was she a nice little girl? Did you know her then, Aunt Nellie?"

"Yes, I knew her very well. She was my cousin, you know, but I don't believe your mother and I were as fond of her as you are of Florence. She hasn't changed so very much, I fancy."

"Then she couldn't have been so very nice," Eleanor concluded.

It was the day upon which they expected Rock to return home, and Eleanor was in a high state of excitement. There must be other arrivals to be looked for, too, for Aunt Dora was having the largest guest room made ready and one or two telegrams had arrived. "Are you expecting somebody else?" she ventured to ask.

"Yes," Aunt Dora answered smiling.

Eleanor's wistful eyes asked the question before her lips said, "Not papa and mamma?"

Aunt Dora stooped and kissed her. "No, dear, I wish I could say it was they for whom I am looking, but I'll tell you this much: they are strangers to me."

Eleanor puzzled over this. It seemed funny for Aunt Dora to entertain strangers at Christmas time, and she was rather disappointed that it should be so; it seemed as if it made a more formal day of it than she could enjoy. She determined to ask Rock about it so soon as she should have a chance, but he knew no more about it than she did and could not coax the secret from his mother. Rock had grown, Eleanor discovered, and although he was quite a rough and tumble boy, liking to be out of doors and to play all sorts of games requiring muscle, he was as kind and polite and gentle when he was in the house, as he ever had been, and Eleanor did not feel that her old comrade had lost anything by going to boarding-school. He was about a year older than Eleanor and she had known him when his mother was a widow and before she had married Eleanor's Uncle Heath.

"It's too bad that you can't go down town with me to buy my presents," Rock said to her the day he arrived. "But, I say, Dimple it's jolly to have you here. I was so glad when I heard you were coming."

"You weren't as glad as I was," she returned. "And isn't it fine that you don't have to go back to that hateful school?"

Rock looked sober. "Yes, it is," he replied. "Some of the fellows, who have been to other schools say they aren't half bad, but you see, this one has all new teachers this year, and though it used to be fine a few years ago, it's not so any more. You see father thought it was the same or he wouldn't have sent me there." One thing that Eleanor liked about Rock was his loyalty to her Uncle Heath.

The days passed quickly enough and when Christmas eve came around Eleanor, Rock, Mr. and Mrs. Heath Dallas were to see the tree at Aunt Nellie's. A fine affair it was, and it made a great show in the dining-room where it stood. Florence had several brothers and sisters and it seemed a big family to Eleanor, for, first, there was Kitty, the eldest daughter who was sixteen, and then came Marian, and next Florence, who was not quite ten, and then the three younger children, Lee and Gertrude, and Ted, the baby. This youngest member of the family was not old enough to do much more than laugh and coo at the shining tree, but Lee and Gertrude were just of the age to most appreciate the glittering glories of stars and rings and balls and glistening baubles.

The presents were not to be given till the next morning, although little Gertrude insisted upon making every one guess what she had for him or her, and in most cases managed to convey the information as to what it was. And then, because Rock said he was not going to hang up his stocking because he was too big to do such babyish things, his mother yielded to Florence's pleading for Eleanor's company for over night, promising that she should not even be asked to stay to breakfast if she could but be on hand to hang up her stocking with the rest.

"Don't you dare to stay too long," said Rock. "We're going to have our presents right after breakfast, aren't you, mamma?"

Mrs. Dallas looked at her husband. "Unless you and Eleanor can wait till evening when we have the tree."

"Oh, pshaw! that's too long to wait," Rock declared. Then seeing his mother's expression, he asked, "Is there any particular reason for it, mother?"

"Yes, I must confess, there is."

"Then I'll wait, if Dimple will, but it's a good deal to ask of a fellow."

"I'll wait," said Dimple cheerfully.

"Then I'll come over for you some time after breakfast," Rock told her, "and I'll see the presents over here and have the fun of that."

"I think Rock was just dear to do that," said Florence after he had gone. "I did so want you to stay with me to-night. Come, let's go right to bed, Dimple."

"We want to hang up our stockings first."

"Oh, of course. Mamma has some white ones, real big long ones, that she keeps on purpose. You know every one of the family has a stocking on Christmas morning."

"I am always going to hang up mine," Eleanor declared; "even after I am grown up and am married. I hope we shall live near each other then, don't you?"

Florence replied that she did and they hurried off to bed after seeing the stockings securely hung up by the nursery chimney-piece.

Although they were so filled with excitement that they kept awake much longer than usual, they dropped to sleep at last and awoke at the sound of the man attending to the furnace in the cellar.

"It's morning," whispered Florence. "Get up, Dimple, we must go and get our stockings, and then we'll come back to bed and look at them."

"It is so dark," said Eleanor, also in a whisper, "are you sure it is morning?"

"Yes, I hear John at the furnace, so I know. Put something round you, or you may get cold. Oh dear, I believe I am going to cough, and I don't want to wake up Gertrude and sister and the others." She buried her face in the pillow and managed to choke down the paroxysm to some extent, and then they wrapped themselves up warmly and tiptoed through the silent hall to the nursery where the row of stockings hung.

"Here is mine," said Florence in a whisper, after feeling around for a moment, "and here is yours. Don't they feel lovely and bumpy? Let's fly back with them before any one hears us." But this was not accomplished for Lee's quick ears heard them and he scrambled out of bed and downstairs he came to get his stocking. Then came more scrambling and whispering and giggling till all the stockings were in the possession of their rightful owners, and the owners then proceeded to snuggle back beneath the covers to examine their treasures.

Florence and Eleanor found the usual supply of cakes and candies and such things; away down in the toe they discovered a bright penny and on top of each stuffed stocking was placed a pretty little doll about three inches long. These were dressed in long clothes and wore, each, a tiny cap and cloak.

"Aren't they precious little things," said Eleanor, to whom a doll always appealed. "Florence, aren't you dying to know what other presents you have?"

"Yes, I am puzzled, for in the corner of the nursery, where our presents are always put, mamma has set up the largest screen, and so I know there is something big behind it, but I can't guess whom it may be for, and it is so lovely to think it may be for me."

Their curiosity in this direction was soon gratified, for it was really later than it appeared to be, for it was a dark morning and breakfast was announced before they were dressed. To be sure, it did not much matter, for all the children, except Lee, were too excited to eat much, and Mr. Graham said he supposed the contents of the stockings took the place of breakfast.

"We didn't eat anything but two cakes and two pieces of candy," Florence declared. "Lee has eaten half of what he had." But that did not prevent Lee from entirely enjoying his chicken and waffles, and the girls at last insisted that they could not wait all day for him. Therefore a procession was formed with Mr. Graham at the head, and they marched upstairs to the nursery. The screen was swung to one side, and there before the delighted eyes of Florence and Eleanor was displayed a pretty little doll-house, completely furnished from top to bottom. It had three rooms above and three below. In the parlor were a lady and a gentleman doll. The lady was sitting down and held a little boy doll in her lap. In the kitchen was a black cook who was immediately dubbed Sylvy, by Florence.

"Dimple hasn't looked at her own presents yet," said Marian, too much interested herself to see Florence's delight to look at her own gifts.

"Why, where are they?" Eleanor asked.

"There, before the door of the doll-house."

Eleanor looked eagerly around and true enough there stood a cunning little coach, drawn by two prancing horses and inside sat another lady and gentleman with their little son. "Aren't they dear?" cried Eleanor. "Oh, Florence, did you ever dream of having anything so lovely? Such cunning little people and to think we have the two families! can't we have the loveliest times? Oh, Aunt Nellie, I think you are a darling to do this for me. I never had a papa doll before and this one is so fine; he has such a lovely moustache."

Kitty laughed. "If you knew what a time we had to get a gentleman the proper size to fit the little house, you would not wonder that you have never possessed such a rare creature."

"Now, I want to know just who gave everything," said Florence.

"Papa gave the house; mamma furnished it, and I gave the dolls and dressed them, all but cook, and Marian gave that. Lee gave the little piano; he wanted to have a hand in furnishing the house."

"I don't see how you all kept the secret so well; I never dreamed of such a surprise," Florence acknowledged.

"Now, about mine," said Eleanor.

"Your coach is from mamma and the lady and gentleman from me," Kitty told her. "You haven't seen papa's present, have you?"

"No, are there any more?" And Eleanor's heart was further warmed by the gift of a set of books that she had long wanted.

The doll-house was so fascinating that when Rock arrived he could scarcely persuade Eleanor to go back home with him, and, indeed, he was so well pleased with the gift that he said he did not wonder the girls did not want to leave it, and he offered to go tell his mother that Eleanor was having such a good time that she would rather stay the rest of the day if she might. Aunt Dora appreciated the situation and sent word that she might remain, but to be sure to be back by five o'clock, and even then Rock found it hard to persuade her that it was time to go, and that if they didn't hurry they might miss something. Then Eleanor at last tore herself away, leaving her gifts behind her.

"It seems queer not to go to church on Christmas day," she said as she and Rock were on their way home. "Was the church very pretty?"

"Beautiful," Rock answered heartily, "and so was the music. It is too bad that you had to stay away. You ought to have seen Bubbles with her stocking. She was delighted, and she has hardly touched a thing in it because she wants to show it to you."

"And to think," said Eleanor, "I had to stay away from her all Christmas day. I don't believe it has ever happened before."

"She had a good time," Rock assured her, "she has had all the nice things that were good for her, and she knows she is to see you very soon."

"In a week, the doctor said, I did so hope she could come to-day." She gave a little sigh, but Rock began to joke with her, and they reached the corner before she knew it.

_CHAPTER X_

_A Happy New Year_

It was quite dark when they reached home, and Eleanor saw that even in the large guest chamber there was a brilliant light. "Oh, the company has come," she exclaimed.

"Pshaw!" said Rock, "they got here before us after all."

Eleanor held back a little as she heard voices in the parlor, but before she could see who was there out came some one who picked her up, and gave her a mighty hug. "Grandfather!" she exclaimed. "Oh, grandfather! I didn't dream it was you. Why, you are not a stranger."

"Why, yes he is," Rock put in. "Mother and I never saw him in our lives till to-day."

"Why, of course," said Eleanor, "I forgot that he was in Europe when Uncle Heath was married. Oh, grandpa, did you bring grandma? and where is she?"

"Upstairs; she'll be down directly."

"And did you come all the way from Birmingham to-day?"

"Not to-day, but we reached here to-day. I tried to get here yesterday but we were detained just twelve hours beyond the time we expected and so we came lagging along about sundown."

"It is such a lovely surprise," Eleanor repeated, snuggling up to him. Then her grandma came in and there was another welcome to be given.

Then, and this was a surprise too, when Eleanor turned from her grandma who should be standing in the doorway but Bubbles. Since she was recovering rapidly the doctors thought she might be allowed to spend Christmas away from the hospital, as Mrs. Dallas made it a special request. "Oh, Bubbles, Bubbles, I am so glad to see you," Eleanor cried. "Why, how long have you been here?"

"I come 'bout fo' o'clock. Miss Dora she come an' fetched me. I gwine back to-morrer, but in a week I kin come away fo' good an' all."

"And do you feel well?"

"Yass, miss, tol'able. I ain't just quite well, but I mos'."

"But oh, suppose you haven't had whooping-cough."

"Miss Dora say I has. She tooken an' write to Sylvy an' Sylvy she say I has it when I a baby."

"Oh, then, that is all right."

Then dinner was announced, and Eleanor who had already eaten her fill, regretted that she had tried to crowd two Christmasses into one day, but there was no help for it, a second dinner could not possibly be eaten, and she could only nibble at the good things provided.

After dinner came the excitement of the second tree, which was dazzling enough to satisfy any one, and then the presents were distributed, such an array of them that Eleanor never remembered having so many. Books, two new Jungle Books, and a set of Miss Alcott's works, besides several other entertaining stories; a pretty set of furs, and many other things. Bubbles was not forgotten by any one, and had a pile of presents almost as big as Eleanor's. As for Rock, with his new wheel, skates, a fine little kodak, and books in great number, he was very happy.

"It has been such a lovely Christmas," said Eleanor, "and I did not see how it could be, a month ago. Aunt Dora, isn't it strange what a difference it makes whether people love you or not?" And these were the last words any one heard from her that night, for, in five minutes she was fast asleep.

The last night of the old year brought another joyful surprise for Eleanor. Bubbles had that day arrived from the hospital, her arm still in a sling, but she was otherwise quite herself. Aunt Dora assured her that she should remain under her roof till Eleanor's parents should return, and Bubbles, who was a grateful little soul, did her best to show appreciation, constituting herself Miss Dora's special messenger. "I was sassy, Miss Dora," she confessed; "'deed I was, but I ain't sassy to folks 'at treats me good, an' I jus' run my legs off fo' yuh, ef yuh wants me to."

"It's bad enough for you to have nearly run your arm off," returned Mrs. Dallas smiling.

"It's great fun to have you and Bubbles here," Rock declared. "Aren't we just going to have a warm old time?" And indeed, it was a happy holiday week, for, although they were cut off from many outside frolics, they could have plenty of fun at home, especially since Grandpa and Grandma Dallas were always ready to add their share to the amusements. It was grandpa, himself, who suggested the kind of party which whooping-cough patients could have. Aunt Nellie agreed heartily and sent out invitations to the hospital where Bubbles had been, and all the children who were suffering from whooping-cough or who had been through the ordeal and who could go out, were invited to a Punch and Judy show the last day of the old year. Grandpa added to the performance a magic-lantern show which gave great delight. It was a funny sort of party, but the children all enjoyed it.

"We won't put on our very best frocks," said Florence, "because we mustn't dress better than the company. We are going to have jelly and little plain cakes for the refreshments and we're going to give a little doll to each of the girls and a game to each of the boys, for favors."

"I think that is a fine kind of party," said Rock. "I like it much better than the other kind."

The guests all enjoyed themselves so heartily and spread such reports among their friends that grandpa said it was too bad that other children who were unable to leave the hospital, but who were well enough to be entertained in a similar way, could not enjoy the little show, therefore he and Rock decided to give their services to the entertainment of these other children the next week, so Florence's first idea brought abundant fruit.

It was late in the afternoon, after the little guests had departed that Eleanor's surprise came. She and Rock and Florence were sitting before the library fire when some one opened the door and a voice asked: "Where is my daughter?"

"Here I am, mamma," Florence answered.

Then there was a little laugh and some one came forward in the dusk, some one whose familiar form made Eleanor, as she turned her head, spring to her feet. "It is my mamma! It is my mamma!" she cried, flinging herself in the dear arms stretched out ready to clasp her. And then who should walk into the room, quite erect, and without any crutches at all, but Eleanor's papa.

"Oh, when did you come? When did you come?" cried the child, her voice shaking with excitement.

"We have just arrived," her father told her. "We wanted much to be here by Christmas, but it seemed better for me to stay longer and get the full benefit of the baths."

"And are you quite well?" said his daughter.

"So nearly that I do not fear a return of the trouble. My little girl has had a hard time, hasn't she?"

"I did at first, but I've had a lovely time here. Aunt Dora and Uncle Heath are so good to me, and here at Aunt Nellie's it is next to being at home. When are we going back, papa?"

"In a few days. You know I have a father and mother, too, whom I have not seen for some time, and I want to have a little visit with them, though, to be sure, we shall have them with us in the spring."

"Shall we? I am so glad, but I'm glad so much lately, that it isn't anything new."

Then there was a great time deciding where every one should stay. Florence said that Eleanor had been so long at her Aunt Dora's that she ought to come to her other aunt's, and Rock insisted that Eleanor had agreed to stay at his house till she went home, but finally Florence carried the day, for she argued that Mrs. Heath Dallas would have all the company, if her Aunt Florence went there, so Eleanor's parents agreed that she should make Florence a little visit until they should be ready to go home, and for a week the two little girls had a great time playing with the new doll-house.

Then came an arrangement which to Eleanor, particularly, was a most delightful one. Since it would be some time before either of the two little girls could go to school again, Eleanor's mother proposed that Florence should go home with them and that they should have lessons there. "For," said Mrs. Dallas, "what do you think, daughter? Miss Reese has the whooping-cough; not very badly, but some one has to take her place in the school. Now, don't you think it would be a good plan to ask her to come for two or three hours a day to teach you and Florence?"

"Fine," replied Eleanor.

"How should you like to take this boy, too?" asked Uncle Heath, putting his hand on Rock's shoulder. "I find that I have to take another long trip and I'd like to have Dora go with me, but we don't want to send Rock back to boarding-school again, since he had such a sorry experience the last time, but if you could take him in with your young folks it would relieve our minds, besides being a good thing for him, Miss Reese is a very competent teacher, I judge."

"She is an excellent teacher," his brother assured him. And the matter was considered settled.

"Does Cousin Ellen know you are coming home, mamma?" Eleanor asked.

"Yes, she knows, and she has taken a little house on the other side of town."

"Oh!" Eleanor's face was a sight to see, between her desire to seem pleased and her real feeling of disappointment.

Her mother hugged her tightly and said: "Never mind Cousin Ellen, now you have your mother."

Eleanor gave a great sigh of content and rested her head against her mother's arm. "Dearest mamma, the next time you go away I shall get into one of the trunks rather than be left behind. You don't know, you never will know, how horrid Cousin Ellen can be."

"Don't I? Perhaps I do. At all events, my darling, she will not be near enough to bother you."

"No, and now I am rather glad I am not to go back to school, for then I should have to see Olive all the time, and she does try to set the girls against me. Am I a very bad child, mamma?"

"You are not perfect, sweetheart, but I don't believe you are as naughty as Cousin Ellen would have us think."