What could it be? Sylvia grew quite excited as once more peals of laughter echoed from the dining-room. Esmeralda was evidently sparing no pains to display her presents to the best advantage, and, lucky girl, no want of money had hampered her choice of what would be appropriate and welcome. "I'm glad I gave Bridgie my minute offering this morning, so that it won't be shamed by contrast. I shall be out of this distribution, so it doesn't matter, but I do hope they will ask me to go in," said Sylvia to herself. "I hated Esmeralda last night, but I rather love her this morning. She is like the little girl in the rhyme--when she is nice she is very, very nice; but when she is bad she is--horrid!" After all, the mysterious preparations were completed before the return of the church party, for the service had been unusually lengthy, and Esmeralda was champing with impatience before the latch-key clicked in the lock. There was great kissing and hugging beneath the mistletoe, and Bridgie was sent flying upstairs to take off her wraps, in preparation for the great exhibition. "I have laid out our presents in the dining-room, and they take up all the table, so there will be no dinner until they are distributed. I've lighted the lamp, dear, to make it look more festive. Hope you don't mind? It was just the least thought in the world gloomy in that back room this morning." "Anything you like, dear! anything you like!" cried Bridgie the docile; then she looked at Sylvia, and beamed with satisfaction as Geoffrey offered his arm to support the invalid's halting footsteps. They led the way together, and she seated herself in state in an arm- chair, while the brothers and sisters crowded in at the doorway, exclaiming volubly at the sight which met their eyes. The table had been pushed lengthways against the window, the crimson curtains making an effective background to its heaped-up treasures. The lamp stood at the farther end of the room, casting a subdued rosy light on the eager faces. It was not exactly a "cheery" illumination, but it was certainly becoming, and lent an air of mystery to the everyday surroundings. "A new lamp-shade! How lovely! Pink silk and roses. Wouldn't it make a sweet garden hat?" exclaimed Bridgie rapturously. "Is that my present, Joan? How did you know I wanted a shade?" "That's a present for the house; yours is over there in that round box; Geoffrey will hand it to you. There's a present for everybody, and one for you all together. You'll see that last!" At that every eye turned curiously at the curtained picture-frame which stood artfully supported by boxes at the place of honour at the farther end of the table. Evidently this was the grand climax of the entertainment, but meantime there were half a dozen excitements in store, all calling for rapturous acknowledgments.