So by the window the Lady Ariel and Aunt Cheerful gaily made crimson chains for a Christmas tree until the purple of the twilight gathered among the pines and the swaggerer in the fire awoke to fight the gathering shadows with his busy sword of flame. By the window Jean stared absently out at the fading pines. "Aunt Cheerful?" "Yes, Lady Ariel." [Illustration: So by the window the Lady Ariel and Aunt Cheerful gaily made crimson chains for a Christmas tree.] "How wonderfully tranquil it all is here. See, it is beginning to snow. White and drifting feathers of peace, I'm sure! Oh, Aunt Cheerful," she said with a little sigh, "how much I envy you!" "Envy me, Lady Ariel?" "Yes. Your cottage and your pines and the quiet of this dear old lane. Somehow I have grown to love it all! And then all your friends here in Westowe." "But surely, child, you too have friends!" "Not so sincere and loyal as yours, Aunt Cheerful. And then you have Lord Chesterfield and your--your son in the West and I have no one." "No one!" "No one!" Jean repeated. "Never a kinsman even, save a nomadic uncle with a strain of gipsy blood in his veins and even he faded out of my life like all the others years ago. It--it is a very odd thing, Aunt Cheerful, to be quite alone, and sometimes it is very, very lonely." "Oh, my dear Lady Ariel!" exclaimed Aunt Cheerful in real distress. "I am so sorry!" For an impetuous instant a question seemed to hover upon her lips, then with a quick movement of decision she was tap-tapping about the room, lighting the lamp and drawing the shades. "Come, come, Lady Ariel!" she exclaimed, smiling. "You're not in your usual good spirits to-night! We'll set the Emperor to singing and have our tea!" But Jean's depression lingered and so it was that when Lord Chesterfield peered into her shadowy corner by the fire that night, her chair was empty. "Good evening, Lady Cheerful!" he said, disappointment in his voice. "Why, good evening, Lord Chesterfield. Dear, dear! your Lordship's cap is full of snow!" "It is nothing, madam, I assure you! I trust your Ladyship is well?" "Very well indeed." "And the Lady Ariel?" "Well"--Aunt Cheerful hesitated--"a little quiet and tired, I should say. She has gone up to bed." Into Lord Chesterfield's eyes leaped a sudden excitement. "A 'normous box came by express," he burst forth breathlessly, "and it was full up of spensive, glittery Christmas things for the chapel tree and--and--a letter came from a candy man and he said a strange lady'd bought and paid for s'ficient candy and oranges and--and everything for mos' everybody in Westowe to be delivered at the Sunday School day before Christmas and--and presents came on ahead in a box 'cause they won't spoil waitin' and--and nobody knows--" "Oh, my dear Lord Chesterfield," broke in Aunt Cheerful in alarm, "do, _do_, my dear boy, take a breath!"