"Only half the fun would be lost not to have her surprised on Christmas morning? I don't know what she would like, I'm sure, but leave it to me and I'll find out from Katy herself and without letting her mistrust anything. Leave it to your Aunt Milly, dear. She is of so little use that she has to seize upon whatever she can discover." And truly she learned the desire of Katy's heart and reported to Elsie that night. Green was Kate's first choice for color and blue next, and she admired especially a long, loose garment with "one of them fur collars that folds up like an accordion or a gentleman's opera-hat." And Elsie succeeded in finding the very thing--not a difficult task, Kate's choice being the latest fashion and very common. Though her gifts gave extraordinary pleasure in every instance, the reaction upon Elsie herself was yet greater. Her satisfaction was increased by the fact that Mr. Middleton told her it was the happiest Christmas he remembered, and that her being with them was largely what made it so. "Besides which," he added, "I realize that most of the other factors and changes that contribute are really due to you and to your influence, Elsie dear." That was very precious to Elsie, but it couldn't ward off the reaction that was to follow. The lavishness of the Middletons' gifts to her, which they justified by reminding her that it was her birthday (she had quite forgotten that Elsie Moss celebrated hers on Christmas!), quite weighed down her spirits. On a sudden she seemed to herself to be accepting what didn't belong to her, what wasn't meant for her. Despite the placid way in which she had gone on acting the part of the real niece, she pulled up and shied, so to speak, at this instance of extravagant giving and a false birthday. It seemed as if she could not bear it, could not accept the money, the jewelry, furs, books, and other gifts showered upon her. But there was no way out. She had to accept everything, and she had to keep everything but the money. That she sent directly to Elsie Moss, explaining that she couldn't possibly accept it, as it was especially for her Christmas birthday. But Elsie Moss, probably with her friend's recent request for the five hundred dollars in mind, sent it directly back. Whereupon she wrote again, saying that she had more money than she knew what to do with, and that she would be broken-hearted if Elsie returned it a second time. The letter in which Elsie Moss returned the money was written on the very day when the girl had planned to write the letter announcing her disappearance. It was only a short note, however, and contained nothing of that nature. Her next letter, in which she reluctantly agreed to accept half of the Christmas-birthday gift, was long and surprising, but delightfully so rather than mysteriously or painfully.