Christmas used to be a great day with us. Tom always came home from the West; and we had fricasseed chicken for breakfast; turkey and pies for dinner; figs, nuts and Malaga grapes for supper. We never celebrated with a Christmas tree (we considered them childish) and the younger ones of us--Ruth and I and the twins--never hung our stockings. Since Mother died there was no one to keep up the fiction of Santa Claus, and I remember we used to feel awfully set-up and superior at the church supper on Christmas Eve when we, with grown-ups, knew that the person in the old red coat and white beard was just the Sunday-school superintendent dressed up. We always opened our presents in the sitting-room directly after breakfast. Each member of the family had a chair of his own, with his presents piled in it. When we all finally got started on the opening, I don't know whether we were more interested in seeing the presents we had given, opened, or opening the ones we had received. It was a wonderful hour anyhow, and I can't even remember it without getting a thrill. It's different now; everything is different--Memorial Day, Fourth of July and Thanksgiving--with Father gone. We can't seem to fill up the rooms without Father. When we try to celebrate a holiday I think it must be something like acting or preaching to an empty house. Father was a beautiful audience, and his applause made the day worth while. Since Tom has been married he hasn't been here for Christmas either. Elise's family wants her with them. Besides, she has two little daughters now and can't possibly come East anyhow. You can imagine with only Ruth, the twins, heart-sick Alec, and me--no Dixie, no Nellie, no money for presents, and the "For Sale" sign still outside the parlour window--it wasn't a very merry Christmas for the Vars family. It just dragged, I can tell you. I had to cook the dinner myself because Bridget, the general-housework girl, had too soft a heart to disappoint her second cousin, who had invited her to spend the day with her. Ruth and the twins started off on a skating-party about three in the afternoon, after we'd done up the dishes together. As soon as I was sure they were all safely out of the way--Alec was sound asleep on the third floor--I stuck on my red tam and sweater, and took my present over to Dr. Maynard. I was dreadfully afraid I'd meet some one I knew on the way, and they'd inquire what I had in the bundle. It was the awkwardest thing I ever attempted to carry in my life. Try it sometime. When I struggled up to Dr. Maynard's front door, I wondered if he had been watching me from the windows, and asking himself what in the name of heaven was coming now. But he wasn't at home. Eliza who came to the door explained that Dr. Maynard had gone out horseback riding, but wouldn't I come in and wait? I thanked Eliza--I'd never been inside Dr. Maynard's house before--and entered the hall. She showed me into a big square room at the left, and told me to sit down.