During all this chit-chat Melissa had sat perfectly quiet, but her quiet was never heavy nor depressing. She looked calmly and interestedly on and listened and smiled and sometimes gave a low laugh, showing that her humor was keen and ready. Otoyo was a never-failing source of delight to her, and when the little thing spoke of hugging the Christian faith a real hearty laugh came bubbling up. But she put her arm affectionately around her little friend and smothered her laugh in Otoyo’s smooth black hair, that always had a look of having just been brushed, no matter how modern and American was the arrangement. And very modern and American were all of Otoyo’s arrangements now. Her clothes bore the stamp of the best New York shops, with the most up-to-date shoes and hats, and she endeavored in every way to be as American as possible. She even tried to use the slang she heard around her, but her attempts in that direction were very laughable. In due time the holidays arrived, and with them came our own Judy full of enthusiasm for her work at the art school; came young Andy with his Japanese friend from the law school. Andy looking older and broader and more robust, not half so raw-boned as he used to be, and the young Japanese gentleman, on first sight, so like Otoyo that it was funny—but, on further acquaintance, it proved to be a racial likeness only; came Nance’s father, a staid, quiet gentleman with his daughter’s merry brown eyes and a general look of one to be depended on; came George Theodore Green, familiarly known as Dodo, no longer so shy, but with much more assurance of manner, as befitted a medical student from Johns Hopkins. Miss Grace Green had secretly sent out invitations for the surprise party for Christmas Eve, and all the girls were very busy getting their best bibs and tuckers in order to do honor to the occasion. Molly had seen a good deal of Miss Green since she came to Wellington to keep house for her brother, and they had become fast friends. Miss Green often asked her to come in to afternoon tea, and then they would have the most delightful talks in the professor’s study, and he would read to them. Sometimes Molly would be prevailed upon to read some of her sketches, always of Kentucky and the familiar things of her childhood. She lost her shyness in doing this, and felt that it rather helped her and gave her new ideas for more things to write about. “Judy, please help me unpack this barrel from home,” called Molly the day before Christmas. “I know you will want to help carry some of the things to the Greens for me. I almost wish I had sent the barrel there, as so many of the things are to go to them. We shall be laden down, I am sure.”