"We might get some one in to help us," began Alwynne delightedly. But Elsbeth, very busy all of a sudden, with basin and egg-beater, whisked and bustled her out of the kitchen. Alwynne returned to the matter, however, later in the day. "Elsbeth, we shall never manage that turkey alone." "Of course, I must send some over to Mrs. Marpler," began Elsbeth hastily. Mrs. Marpler was a charwoman. Alwynne contrived to make their succession of little maids adore her, but she and Mrs. Marpler detested one another cordially. Mrs. Marpler's offences, according to Alwynne, were that she was torpid, inefficient, breathed heavily, smelled of cats, and, by the complicated and judicious recital of the authentic calamities which regularly befell her, lured from Elsbeth more than her share of the broken meats and old clothes of the establishment, perquisites which Alwynne, entirely incredulous, coveted for pet dependents of her own. Alwynne's offences, according to Mrs. Marpler, were, the aforementioned incredulity, her hostile influence on Miss Loveday, a certain crispness of manner and a tendency to open all windows in Mrs. Marpler's neighbourhood. The feud distressed Elsbeth, and Alwynne's diagnosis of Mrs. Marpler's character; for she liked to believe the best of every one. Alwynne forced her to agree, but secretly she sympathised with her feckless char-lady. "Marpler has been out of work three weeks, and as poor Mrs. Marpler says, where their Christmas dinner is to come from----" "How much extra did you pay her this week?" demanded Alwynne remorselessly. "And last week--and the week before--and the week before that? Of course he's out of work. Who wouldn't be?" "My dear Alwynne, if you think they can buy a Christmas dinner on what I gave them--" retorted Elsbeth heatedly. "But it's absurd to argue with you. What do you know of what food costs?" "Anyhow, Mrs. Baker, with six children----" began Alwynne, who also had been primed by a protégée. But she recollected that she did not wish to annoy Elsbeth at this juncture. Clare must take precedence of Mrs. Baker. "Well, you can send them the legs and the carcase," she conceded; "even then there will be more than we can possibly manage. Couldn't we ask some one to spend the day with us?" "I hardly think," said Elsbeth, with a touch of severity, "that you would find any one. Most people like to keep Christmas with their Relations." "Well, I haven't got any. But by all accounts I think I should hate 'em in the plural as much as I love 'em in the singular." She blew Elsbeth a kiss. "But if we could find some one--to help us eat up the turkey--and spend the evening--it would be rather jolly, don't you think? It was dullish last year, wasn't it?" "Was it?" said Elsbeth, with careful brightness. "I'm sorry. I had thought you enjoyed it." "Oh, why is she so touchy? I didn't mean anything," cried Alwynne within herself. And aloud-- "Oh, I only meant without a tree or anything specially Christmassy----"