His reflections were interrupted by Swanhild’s voice. “We will have every one from Rowan Tree House, wont we?” she said. “And Herr Sivertsen,” added Sigrid. “He must certainly come, because he is all alone.” “And whatever happens, we must have old Miss Charlotte,” said Frithiof; “but it strikes me we shall have to ask people to bring their own mugs, like children at a school-treat.” But Sigrid scouted this suggestion, and declared that the blue and white china would just go round, while, as to chairs, they could borrow two or three from the neighbors. Then came the return home, and the dressing of the tree, amid much fun and laughter, and the writing of the invitations, which must be posted that night. In all London there could not have been found a merrier household. All the past cares were forgotten; even the sorrows which could not be healed had lost their sting, and the Christmas promised to be indeed full of peace and goodwill. How ten people—to say nothing of Lance and Gwen—managed to stow themselves away in the little parlor was a mystery to Frithiof. But Sigrid was a person of resources, and while he was out the next day she made all sorts of cunning arrangements, decorated the room with ivy and holly, and so disposed the furniture that there was a place for every one. At half-past four the guests began to arrive. First Mrs. Boniface and Cecil with the children, who helped to light the tree; then Madame Lechertier, laden with boxes of the most delicious _bonbons_ for every one of the party, and soon after there came an abrupt knock, which they felt sure could only have been given by Herr Sivertsen. Swanhild ran to open the door and to take his hat and coat from him. Her eager welcome seemed to please the old man, for his great massive forehead was unusually free from wrinkles as he entered and shook hands with Sigrid, and he bowed and smiled quite graciously as she introduced him to the other guests. Then he walked round the Christmas tree with an air of satisfaction, and even stooped forward and smelled it. “So,” he said contentedly, “you keep up the old customs, I see! I’m glad of it—I’m glad of it. It’s years since I saw a properly dressed tree. And the smell of it! Great heavens! it makes me feel like a boy again! I’m glad you don’t follow with the multitude, but keep to the good old Yule ceremonies.” In the mean time Cecil was pouring out tea and coffee in the kitchen, where, for greater convenience, the table had been placed. “Sigrid has allowed me to be lady-help and not visitor,” she said laughingly to Frithiof. “I told her she must be in the other room to talk to every one after the English fashion, for you and Swanhild will be too busy fetching and carrying.” “I am glad to have a chance of saying one word alone to you,” said Frithiof. “Are you sure that Mrs. Boniface does not object to this new plan as to the partnership?”