Livingstone glanced at the clock. It was half-past eight. He had had no idea it was so late. He had forgotten how late it was when he left his office, and the walk through the snow had been slow. He was hopelessly in the wrong. Just then there was a scurry in the hall outside and the squeak of childish voices. James coughed and turned quickly towards the door. Livingstone wanted an outlet. "What is that?" he asked, sharply. James cleared his throat nervously. The squeak came again--this time almost a squeal. "Whose children are those?" demanded Livingstone. "Ahem! I thinks they's the laundress's, sir. They just came around this evening--" Livingstone cut him short. "Well! I--!" He was never nearer an outbreak, but he controlled himself. "Go down and send them and her off immediately; and you--" He paused, closed his lips firmly, and changed his speech. "I wish some dinner," he said coldly. "Yes, sir." James had reached the door when he turned. "Shall you be dining at home to-morrow, sir?" he asked, quietly. "Yes, of course," said Livingstone, shortly. "And I don't want to see any one to-night, no matter who comes. I am tired." He had forgotten Clark. "Yes, sir." The butler withdrew noiselessly, and Livingstone sank back in his chair. But before the butler was out of hearing Livingstone recalled him. "I don't want any dinner." "Can have it for you directly, sir," said James, persuasively. "I say I don't want any." James came a little closer and gave his master a quick glance. "Are you feeling bad, sir?" he asked. "No, I only want to be let alone. I shall go out presently to the club." This time James withdrew entirely. What happened when James passed through the door which separated his domain from his master's was not precisely what Livingstone had commanded. What the tall butler did was to gather up in his arms two very plump little tots who at sight of him came running to him with squeals of joy, flinging themselves on him, and choking him with their chubby arms, to the imminent imperiling of his immaculate linen. Taking them both up together, James bore them off quietly to some remote region where he filled their little mouths full of delightful candy which kept their little jaws working tremendously and their blue eyes opening and shutting in unison, whilst he told them of the dreadful unnamed things that would befall them if they ventured again through that door. He impressed on them the calamity it would be to lose the privilege of holding the evergreens whilst they were being put up in the hall, and the danger of Santa Claus passing by that night without filling their stockings. The picture he drew of two little stockings hanging limp and empty at the fireplace while Santa Claus went by with bulging sleigh was harrowing.