Chapter VI: Mrs. Metherell's Party

IF Mrs. Metherell's party had been anticipated with feelings of pleasure and delight, the realisation quite came up to every one's expectations. To many children it would doubtless have appeared a tame affair, but to those who partook of its joys, it left nothing to be desired.

First came the substantial high tea in the roomy underground kitchen, which had been decorated with holly and evergreens for the occasion, the tins on the mantel-shelf shining like silver, and the plated dish-covers on the walls looking like mirrors for brightness. Around the large, square kitchen table sat the children—about a dozen little girls and boys who were at first too busily occupied with the good food, that was such a rare treat to them, to have much to say.

But when the appetites of all were satisfied, the children commenced to chatter, and one small boy whispered audibly to his neighbour: "I never tasted turkey before, an' ain't it just prime!"

Maggie Blundell, her usually pale cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes shining brightly, was one of the quietest of the lot, though she was thoroughly enjoying herself, and making mental notes of everything she saw and every word that was said, with which to entertain Annie for days to come.

Tea over, Mrs. Metherell offered up a short prayer of thanksgiving to God, during which some of the children bowed their heads reverently, whilst the others appeared astonished, never having been taught that all good things come from our Heavenly Father. The kind hostess looked around on the young faces about her table, and in a few earnest words reminded them Whose birthday eve it was, and for Whose sake they were making glad.

Afterwards, the whole party arose, and was ushered by Clara into the sitting-room. Exclamations of amazement and admiration broke from the children as they saw the Christmas tree. The Chinese lanterns had been carefully lighted by Jim Blewett, who stood in the background, watching the eager faces and listening to the delighted remarks:

"A Christmas tree!" cried one. "Oh, how lovely!"

"I never saw a Christmas tree before!" from another.

"Nor I!"

"Nor I!"

"Doesn't it do one's heart good to see their pleasure?" Mrs. Metherell whispered to Jim.

He nodded silently, his observant eyes wandering from one child's face to another, till they rested on Maggie Blundell's animated countenance, with recognition.

"There is one I know," he said, indicating the little girl. "How strange she should be here to-night!"

"Do you mean Maggie Blundell, sir?"

"Is that her name? I mean that tidy little figure in black. There, she is looking at us now, and I believe she recognises me too."

Maggie's eyes had indeed espied her unknown friend, and, darting across the room towards him, she cried: "Oh, sir!" then paused too agitated to utter another word.

"How do you do? I hope you are having a good time?" Jim said, genially.

"Oh, yes, sir, thank you! Oh, Mrs. Metherell, ma'am, this is the gentleman we told you about who gave me the doll!"

Mrs. Metherell comprehended the situation at once, and she laid a kindly hand on the child's shoulder, smiling down into the excited face, as she replied:

"This gentleman is Mr. Blewett, one of my lodgers, my dear. What a strange coincidence! Now you can tell him what has become of his present, for I am sure he will like to know how much it is appreciated!"

In a few eager words, Maggie explained that she had given the doll to her sister, because she was always ill, and often lonely; how they had named the doll "Rose"; and how they loved her dearly. Encouraged by his evident interest, she proceeded to tell him all about her home, till Jim knew how hard her mother worked, and what trying times they had sometimes, to all of which he listened with deep attention. Their conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Metherell, who thought it was time to begin distributing the presents to the children.

The little ones were ranged around the tree in a circle, and when they received their gifts it was quite touching to notice the pleasure on their faces. Of course, the tree was the most wonderful object of the evening, but it was dismantled at length, and pushed back into a corner of the room, shorn of its glory.

Games followed—"blind man's buff," puss in the corner, and a variety of others, and the medical student proved himself an adept in all. At first the children were inclined to be shy with him, but when they played "family coach," and Jim took upon himself to tell the history of that famous vehicle, and gave a humorous account of all the mishaps that attended its career, the young people forgot their reserve, and fairly shouted with laughter.

It was all over at last; the children returned to their different homes with happy hearts; whilst Mrs. Metherell and Clara began to tidy up after their little visitors, and the party was an event of the past.

"It has been a complete success," Jim Blewett remarked ere he went upstairs, "and I, for one, have certainly enjoyed it. You've caused some happiness any way, Mrs. Metherell!"

"I'm truly glad to think so, sir," the landlady answered, "and I'm sure I'm most grateful to you for your assistance."

Meanwhile, Maggie Blundell had hastened home, and having exhibited her presents from the Christmas tree, which were greatly admired, was giving her mother and sister a graphic description of the party, and telling of her delight and astonishment at the sight of the "kind gentleman," as she had grown accustomed to call the young medical student.

"I was so amazed I could hardly speak at first," she explained, "but afterwards I told him all about you, mother, and all about you too, Annie. He asked me lots of questions—had we always lived in London; and when he heard you were brought up in the country, mother, he said he thought as much, because I spoke differently from the other children, and he guessed that was the reason. I suppose he meant I spoke like you, mother?"

"I dare say, my dear."

"Oh, he did say such a funny thing about himself! He said he was half a doctor! What could he have meant, mother?"

"I'm sure I can't think. Half a doctor! Are you sure that was what he said? Oh! Perhaps he is a medical student. He may be learning to be a doctor. We will ask Mrs. Metherell. By the way, Maggie, you have not told us his name."

"He is called Mr. Blewett."

"Blewett!" Mrs. Blundell echoed. "I wonder where he comes from! Can it be? But no, it is not likely!"

"Do you know any one called Blewett, mother?"

"I used to know a family of that name years ago."

"He said he would come to see us one day; and he asked me if Annie had had a good doctor."

"What did you say, dear?"

"I said, no, not since I could remember."

"Oh, Maggie, do you really think he will come here?" asked Annie, casting a comprehensive glance around their poor home.

"I should not be surprised. I think he does mean to come. Do have another chocolate, Annie!"

The little invalid was posted up in bed, regaling herself on chocolates from a box that her sister had received from the Christmas tree.

"We will keep some for to-morrow," the mother said, smiling, "and I think we will put off hearing anything more about the party till to-morrow too. You must be very tired, Maggie: and Annie there ought to have been asleep long ago."

"I don't feel a bit sleepy, mother," Maggie said.

"I dare say not, but it's time you were in bed, all the same. Put away your sweets and presents till to-morrow, like a good girl."

The child obeyed obediently; and then Mrs. Blundell brought forward her Bible, and read slowly and reverently the account St. Luke gives of the birth of Christ. When she had finished, they all joined in singing that grand old Christmas hymn, "While shepherds watched their flocks by night."

The mother's voice was tired, and much of its beauty had passed, but the children's notes were pure and sweet, and resounded through the house, thrilling many a weary heart with the triumphant words of joy:

"All glory be to God on high,
And on the earth be peace;
Good will henceforth from heaven to men
Begin and never cease."