After we drank that Mr. Hemmingway said, “It was, if I recall correctly, the Christmas of ’76 that I first met the customs of Italy at Christmas and Epiphany; I can, I _think_, without undue assumption of certainty state _flatly_ that it _was_ in ’76, and I assert this, because in the fall of ’76 I was experiencing my first attack of _bronchitis_; and I recall this, because the June of that same year, ’76, as I have heretofore mentioned, I had taken a trip up the Severn--or was that, now that I probe, ’74? _Let me see, let me see_--” And then Miss Meek boomed out her “Ho hum!” and every one felt more natural and lots better. After that the stiffness slid away--all in a second--and Miss Meek tossed her head and told about the fine Christmases she had seen, and Miss Bannister told of how the children in the village where she had lived sung carols, and Mr. Hemmingway searched after dates that wouldn’t come to him; and Viola and Leslie listened with more kindness than usual. After we had had the lumpy, heavy sort of pudding that people always serve around Christmas, we sat back and talked some more while we waited for Mr. Wake and Sam to come. And at last the bell in the hall swung to and fro, and then there _was_ excitement. Beata, who courtesied very low, let them in, and they called out their greetings and wishes to every one, even before I had presented them. Mr. Wake had a big bag under his arm that was pleasantly lumpy, and he said that Santa Claus had dropped it on the hillside near Fiesole and told him to deliver it. Then we all stood up, and after Leslie had lit the many candles in the drawing room, she rung a bell, and we filed in. She summoned Mr. Wake first, and I was glad she did, because going up to the table where she stood might have been hard for some of the others. And after Mr. Wake took his present, he gave a little boarding school bow--that dip at the knees that makes girls shorter than they are for the second in which they do it--and every one followed his lead. We did have the best time! But, and I suppose it sounds strange, it got in your throat and made it feel cramped. I can’t explain why, but when Miss Bannister and Miss Meek couldn’t, at first, open their packages because their hands shook so, it did make you feel _queer_. Miss Bannister didn’t say anything--she only looked at her presents while her lips moved--but Miss Meek kept up an incessant string of, “Oh, I say!” or “How _too_ ripping, don’t you know!” in a voice that was not entirely steady. And both of them had very bright, little, round spots of color on their usually faded cheeks, and their eyes were very, very bright. Mr. Hemmingway was so absorbed in a Dunhill pipe that Mr. Wake insisted Santa had sent, that he didn’t mention a date for fully a half hour. He only looked at that pipe, and murmured, “My, _my_! Never did think I’d _own_ one. My, my, _my_!” And there were papers and cords all over the floor, and it looked and felt _quite_ Christmasy.