“I suppose that Christmas Eve is really the time for Christmas trees,” said Cathalina, as she straightened a candle on the tree and hung another silver ball where it would show to the best advantage. “But everybody wants to be in his own home then, and anyway Cousin John couldn’t get in until late last night and Uncle Mart was to get in this noon. He’s been South on business.” The family dinner was to be early on account of the smaller fry. At five o’clock darkness had fallen, the Van Buskirk home was aglow from every window and the family waiting. The tree was in what Hilary called the back parlor, separated from the room at the front by pillars and draperies. As Cathalina flitted about the tree looking like a sweet Christmas fairy, Hilary sat almost lost in a great chair, enjoying the beauty of the tree and of the warm, spacious room with its fine pictures and tasteful appointments. “There!” cried Cathalina at last, and pressing the electric button left the room dark, except for such light as came in from other well lighted rooms. “They’ll all come at once,” continued Cathalina, perching on the arm of Hilary’s chair. “How can the children wait all day for their presents?” “O, they have most of them at home, but they do look forward to the big family tree. I used to be crazy about the time when I would see Santa Claus. O, isn’t it fine, Hilary, to have you here and everybody coming! Katy never gave me a look when I peeped into the kitchen a while ago. She was bossing the whole crew,—wouldn’t hear to the caterer Mother had suggested to the housekeeper. And we’re lucky to have her and her good homey cooking. Some of Mother’s friends have such times. Mrs. Utley has millions of money, but when her littlest kiddie had been out with his nurse and exposed to small pox, the whole set left and she had to get along by herself a while. If you knew her you would understand how funny it was. I have forgotten how long they were quarantined, but nobody was sick.—O, there they come!” Cathalina rose and spun around on her slippered toes, her light dress floating around her. Hilary rose, too, in some inward excitement, and shook out the lines of her prettiest “party frock”, which was quite as nice as Cathalina’s; for Mrs. Van Buskirk had not changed her ideas in regard to simplicity for young girls. Watts in his most elegant style was admitting the guests whose merry voices drew the girls to the hall. Young laughter, little Charlotte’s shrill treble, Uncle Knickerbocker’s kind bass tones, the cheery greetings and “Merry Christmases” of old and young soon filled the house with cheer. Several of the children could not resist the shining bannisters and slid down triumphantly before their elders could stop them. The company rapidly increased in a truly informal gathering where common interests and affection made everything natural and spontaneous.