"Well, Mrs. Murphy, I'm a Christmas Green, you know," answered the Professor, and Mrs. Murphy laughed like a child over the little joke. "As for the young Japanese lady, she is that busy, sir. You would niver expect a haythen born to take on so about the birthday of our blessed Lord. But she's half a Catholic already, sir, and she's bought a holy candle to burn to-night." "You're a good woman, Mrs. Murphy," said the Professor, standing beside the well-laden kitchen table, "and whatever she learns from you will do her good, too. She's a long way from home and I have no doubt she'll be very thankful for a little mothering, poor child." "Indade, and she's as cheerful as the day is long, sir. And so is the other young lady, and she's used to a deal of rejicin' in her family, too. I can tell by the way she loves the entertainin'. Her company niver goes away hungry and thirsty, sir. It's tea and cake always and more besides. 'Have you a little spare room in your oven so that I can bake some muffins for some friends this mornin', Mrs. Murphy?' she'll say of a Sunday. She's that hospitable and kind, sir. There's nobody like her in Queen's. I'd be sorry ever to lose her." "Should you call her hair red, Mrs. Murphy?" asked the Professor irrelevantly. "It's more red than anything else, sir, especially when the weather's damp." "And what color should you say her eyes were, Mrs. Murphy?" "An' you've not seen her eyes, surely, sir, if you can be askin' me that question. They're as blue--as blue, sir, like the skies in summer." The Professor blinked his own brown eyes very thoughtfully. "Well, good day, Mrs. Murphy, I must be off. Do you think you and Miss Sen together can manage things?" "We can, surely," said Mrs. Murphy. "She's as neat and quick a little body as I've seen this side the Atlantic." "My sister gets here at noon. Good day," and the Professor was off, around the house, and across the campus, before Mrs. Murphy could take breath to continue her conversation. In the meantime, Molly was hastening through the pine woods to a grove where she had once seen some holly bushes. In the pocket of her sweater were a pair of scissors and a penknife. "We must have a little holiday decoration, Otoyo and I," she said to herself. "And it's lots nicer to gather it than buy it at the grocery store. I suppose my box from home will reach here to-night. I'll ask Mr. and Mrs. Murphy up to-morrow and give a party. There'll be turkey in it, of course, and plum cake and blackberry cordial--it won't be such a bad Christmas. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy are dears--I must do up their presents this afternoon. I hope Otoyo will like the little book. She'll be interested to know that Professor Green wrote it." As she hurried along, breathing in the frosty air, like Pilgrim she spied a figure a great way off coming toward her. "Another left-over," she thought and went on her way, her steps keeping time to a poem she was repeating out loud: