Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Motherless families -- Fiction
Tom ran out and opened the front door quickly, for it was not the weather
in which to keep people waiting, and so it happened that the little group
from the door and the little group from the scullery met in the passage,
and entered the room together.
"Oh-h-h!" squealed Margery.
"I say!" cried Charlie.
"Well, I never! And to think that at my age I should see a Christmas-tree
for the first time!" exclaimed old Mrs. Twining. "It makes me sad to
think of what I've missed!"
"However did you manage it? and where did you get all the things?" cried
Aunt Emma, amazed, for she had no suspicion of what was going on.
For a while all was chatter and admiration and excitement, the elder ones
content to gaze and admire only, the younger ones eyeing the parcels with
eager, inquisitive eyes.
"Whatever can be inside them all?" gasped Margery. "Oh, I don't know how
to wait until I know!" and Margery was not the only one who felt like
that. Indeed, to keep them waiting long was more than Bella or Tom could
do, and very soon the parcels were being handed round.
That was a glorious moment for them all, but especially for Bella; she
alone knew all the secrets the tree held, and to whom each parcel
belonged, and she was pleased and proud, excited and nervous, but
supremely happy, all at the same time. There was something for every one,
even for old Mrs. Twining, for, when Bella realised that she would be
there, and heard how much she loved flowers, she had brought in one of her
precious pots of Roman hyacinths for her, and placed it under the boughs
of the tree in readiness for the old lady.
"I s'pose I ought to keep it for market," she had sighed, as she picked
out the nicest she could see. But no price that could have been paid for
it could have been half as precious as the overwhelming delight of the
poor lonely old woman, and her joyful thanks.
For Aunt Maggie there was a little vase that they had bought in Norton for
her; for their father the slippers, and for Aunt Emma the shawl, and they
all seemed quite overcome to think there were such nice presents lurking
in those branches for them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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