Come they did, every one of them. They wore quaint Puritan costumes, which were delightful to look at, if they were made of such humble materials as cheese-cloth and silkoline. The boys were stunning in their picturesque suits, and the dining-room was truly old-fashioned with its onions and red peppers strung from the rafters. The homely viands were eaten with decided enjoyment, and afterward even old Mr. Irving joined in the Virginia Reel. “I’m so glad,” said Betty, as she and Van went to their rooms after the party was over, “that I learned of your ability to ‘chum,’ before it was too late.” “I’m glad, too,” said her English guest; “I wouldn’t have missed this experience for anything. I shall always remember what is probably the only Thanksgiving party I shall ever attend.” II A CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION “Why, of course,” said Betty, “Christmas will be fun, whatever we do; but I mean I’d like to do something specially exciting.” “Such as?” demanded Jack, her adopted brother. “Oh, I don’t know; I can’t think of anything. But we can have a party here any time; I’d like to go somewhere else for the day—somewhere where there’s something to see and do.” “Restless little Betty,” said her mother, smiling. “Well, what do you think of going to Lakewood for a few days?” Betty looked dubious. “Lakewood is lovely,” she said, “and I do want to go there again sometime; but it doesn’t seem just right for Christmas. I want to do something more—more—” “Rackety,” suggested Jack. “Yes, more gay and festive. I’d like to fly to the North Pole in an air-ship.” “With flags waving and bands playing?” “Yes. Wouldn’t it be fun? What could we do, Mother?” Her mother caressed Betty’s curly head and smiled indulgently at her, as she said: “Let me think a minute. There must be plenty of places if you’re bent on going away somewhere. How about New York?” “Oh, that’s just right!” cried Betty. “Let’s all go to New York to spend Christmas, and see the beautiful things there. Oh, _wouldn’t_ we have fun!” Betty’s eyes fairly shone with delighted anticipation, and she threw a sofa-pillow at Jack to stir him to greater enthusiasm. “Wake up, Sleepyhead!” she cried. “Come on, let’s plan it all.” “If you choose,” said her mother, “you might invite Agnes Graham and her brother to go with you.” “Oh, Mother! That will be grand! We’ll have the greatest time anybody ever had!” “Glorious!” said Jack, roused to enthusiasm at last. “It will be fine if Jamie, or ‘Stub’ as we call him, is along. When shall we start?” “Christmas is next week, Thursday, Betty,” said her mother. “Suppose we start about Tuesday and come home on Friday?” “Just right!” said Betty. “And stay at a fine hotel and go to the shops—and the play? Oh, Mother, could we go to the play?” “Yes, I think we’ll go to a matinée,” said her mother. “Do you think Mrs. Graham would spare both her children on Christmas day?”