"THERE, now I have all my presents ready," Mavis declared in a satisfied tone, one morning a few days before Christmas, as she dropped great splashes of red sealing-wax on the small parcel she had already secured firmly with cord. "I do hope Miss Tompkins will like the handkerchief sachet I'm sending her." "I should think she will be sure to like it," said Rose, who was standing looking out of the parlour window at the birds she had been feeding with bread-crumbs. "I wonder when Miss Dawson's Christmas-box will arrive, Mavis." "Soon, I expect. I should not be surprised if it came at any time now, for it's getting very near Christmas, isn't it?" The little girls' holidays had commenced two days before, and since then, they had been very busy preparing for Christmas. Mr. Grey had kindly driven them into Oxford, one afternoon, to make their various purchases, and but a shilling or so remained of Mavis' pound, the rest having been spent in presents which were hidden in the bottom of her trunk in her bedroom, to be kept secret from every one but Rose, until Christmas Day. For kind Miss Tompkins she had bought a pink silk handkerchief sachet with birds painted on it, and this, with a carefully-written note, she had packed in readiness to send off that evening. "I wonder what mother is doing in the kitchen," remarked Rose, presently. "She said at breakfast she would have a leisureable day, as the puddings are boiled and the mincemeat is made, and we're to have a cold dinner. But I've heard her bustling about as though she's very busy. Let us go and see what she's doing." Accordingly, the little girls repaired to the kitchen, where they found Mrs. John in the midst of packing a hamper with Christmas cheer. "I dare say I'm very foolish to do this," she was remarking to Jane, who was watching her with a half-smile on her countenance, "but it's your master's wish, and I won't go against him in the matter. There'll be ten shillings' worth in this hamper, if a penny, what with that nice plump chicken, the pudding, a jar of mincemeat, a pound of tea, a pound of butter, and—well children?" she said inquiringly, as the little girls came forward. "Who is that hamper for, mother?" asked Rose, her curiosity alive in a moment. "For Richard Butt's wife," was the brief answer. "Oh, how kind of you, Aunt Lizzie!" cried Mavis. "How pleased she will be, won't she?" "It's to be hoped so, and I dare say she will. But the kindness is not mine, child, it's your uncle's. 'Fill in the corners of the hamper, Lizzie,' he said, and you see I'm doing it." "I should like to be looking on when that hamper's opened," observed Jane, as her mistress placed down the cover and began to cord it. "It'll arrive as a blessing, I reckon. Butt was talking to me about his wife and child yesterday, and—" "His child, Jane? I didn't know he had one," broke in Mrs. John, greatly astonished. "The baby's only a fortnight old, ma'am. I didn't know there was one myself till yesterday."