"Little cousin!" smiled Anna. "I thought the relationship was closer. I will not give up the hope of persuading you. The nicest beaux in town are to be there--Mr. Thornton, Mr. Russell, and Mr. Villet, and Mr. Lacy, and a score more--_do_ come!'" "I cannot!" said Ida, with a pang. "Papa will not be pleased with our going out separately;" said Josephine, that night. "He does not object to my going to Mr. Dana's alone;" was the response. "Thinking of number one, as usual, my amiable lady! I tell you what! I shall not demean myself, by playing puss-in-the-corner, and smearing my hands with treacle, when I might be at Mr. Talbot's, in decent company." "As you like. If you represent the character of the company to your father, he will probably insist upon your mixing with them." "He! he!" tittered Rachel, who was in waiting. Josephine flounced out of the room. "Christmas gift, Miss Ida!" Her maid stood at her bedside, in the grey morning light. "Christmas gift!" called out the passers-by, as they encountered each other in the street "Hurrah for Christmas!" shouted squads of boys, at the corner, to a brilliant accompaniment of pop-crackers. Ida heard it all, with a spirit out of tune with mirth. No gifts were prepared for her; the Thanksgiving-day was one of mourning to the homeless. She had anticipated a visit from Carry, during the holidays; but her last letter had dashed the hope. "Mammy" was recovering from a severe fit of sickness, and she would not leave her. Ida wished she were not to dine at Mr. Dana's; she was not fit for society, and sad enough, without the sight of joys, which reminded her of her losses and wants. In this discontented mood, she went down stairs. No Christmas yet! Mr. Read grunted to her formal bow, and Josephine said "the coffee was cold--it had been on the table so long." Mr. Read finished his second cup, and pulled out his pocket-book. "People will be asking if I made you a present. Thank goodness! Christmas comes but once a year. Two would break a man. There!" fillipping a roll of notes to his daughter. "Don't waste it upon gimcracks and finery. If women had to earn money, they wouldn't be so crazy to spend it. You must have some, I suppose:" and he laid a smaller bundle upon Ida's plate. "No, sir! I have money of my--" but he did not wait to hear her through. As she quitted the table, Josephine pointed to the untouched "present." "Take it, if you choose!" said Ida, contemptuously. "I am not a dependant or a beggar!" Josephine loved money, and pocketed it. "And the old curmudgeon is none the wiser!" chuckled the dutiful daughter.