GRAY _walks about the room, then, going to the foot of the staircase, he calls softly_. GRAY. Margaret! [_He waits a moment; then he calls again_] Margaret! _He listens, takes another turn about the room, then, coming back to the staircase, stands, leaning against the foot of the balusters._ MARGARET _comes softly down the stairs, and bending over, puts her hands on his shoulders_. MARGARET. A merry Christmas! GRAY. [_Turning round and kissing her_] And a happy New Year! MARGARET. It will be--oh, it will be! GRAY. I almost think it will sometimes. [_Holding her at arms’ length_] New frock? MARGARET. Like it? GRAY. Oh, I’ve seen it already. MARGARET. Why, it’s the first time I’ve put it on. GRAY. [_Untying the box on the table as he speaks_] Sydney carted it along with her last week when we went to choose--this. MARGARET. [_Like a child with a new toy_] For me, Gray? GRAY. Looks like it. MARGARET. Oh, I hope you haven’t been extravagant. GRAY. [_Opening the lid_] Well, Sydney said-- MARGARET. Silver fox! Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t. GRAY. Put ’em on. Sydney’s quite a wise child. MARGARET. [_Luxuriously_] Oh, I do love being spoiled. GRAY. You haven’t had so much of it, have you, Meg? MARGARET. [_With a complete change of manner_] Don’t! GRAY. What? MARGARET. Don’t call me Meg. GRAY. Why not? MARGARET. You never have before. GRAY. Don’t you see, I want a name for you that no-one else uses. MARGARET. [_Close to him_] Yes, yes, that no-one else has ever used. Not Meg. Not Margaret. Make a name of your own for me--new--new. GRAY. Well, you’re getting one new name pretty soon, anyhow. MARGARET. Yes. New year--new name--new life. [_In his arms_] Oh, Gray, is thirty-five very old? GRAY. Not when you say it. MARGARET. Oh, Gray, we’ve time for everything still? GRAY. Time for everything. [_He laughs_] Except church, my child! Do you really insist on going? MARGARET. Aunt Hester will be horrified if I don’t. Besides-- [_She comes back to the table and begins putting the papers together._] GRAY. What? MARGARET. I suppose you’ll think me a fool-- GRAY. Shall I? MARGARET. Oh, Gray, for the first time in my life I’m happy. I want to say-- GRAY. What does she want to say? MARGARET. “Humble and hearty thanks--” SYDNEY _runs in with a puppy in her arms. She is followed by_ KIT. KIT _is a good-looking, fair-haired boy who may be twenty-two, but is nevertheless much younger than_ SYDNEY, _whom he takes as seriously as he takes everything else in life. It is part of her charm for him that he finds it a little difficult to keep up with her._ SYDNEY. Mother! Mother! Look what Gray’s brought me! MARGARET. Oh, Sydney, your aunt isn’t fond of dogs. Merry Christmas, Kit! KIT. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Fairfield! SYDNEY. Yes, but isn’t he an angel? And Kit’s given me a collar for him. [_She goes up to_ GRAY] You know, Gray, it’s so sweet of you that in return I’ll--