"Mr.--Brown, and Mr. and Mrs.--Clark," said Kitty slowly and impressively, as though she were adding up figures and the result would speak for itself. She took in the shop with a wave of her little hand and a sweep of her eyes. "I'm playing Santa Claus myself, to-night," she said, tossing her hooded head, her eyes kindling at the thought. The next look around was one of business. "This is Mr. Livingstone, papa's employer." She indicated that gentleman. Mr. Brown held out his plump and not wholly immaculate hand. "How d'ye do, sir? I think I've heard of you?" He turned back to Kitty. "Who for?" he asked. "For him," Kitty nodded. "He's got a whole lot of little children--not his own children--other people's children--that he's going to give Christmas presents to, and I've come to help him. What have you got left, Mr. Santa Claus?" She stood on tiptoe and peered over the shelves. "Well, not a great deal, Miss Wide-awake," said the shopkeeper dropping into her manner and mood. "You see there's lots of children around this year as don't keep wide-awake all night, and Santa Claus has had to look after 'em quite considerable. I can't tell you how many sleighs full of things he's taken away from this here very shop. He didn't leave nothing but them things you see and the very expensive things in the cases. He said they were too high-priced for him." He actually gave Livingstone a wink, and Livingstone actually felt flattered by it. The reply recalled Kitty to her business. She turned to Mr. Livingstone. "How much money have you got to spend?" she asked. "Umhm--I don't know," said Livingstone. "As much as a dollar?" "Yes." "More?" "Yes." "How much more?" "As much as you want. Suppose you pick out the things you like and then we can see about the price," he suggested. "Some things cost a heap." She was looking at a doll on whose skirt was pinned a little scrap of card-board marked, "_25c._" "Yes, they do," assented Livingstone. "But they are worth it," he thought. "I tell you what!--Suppose you look around and see just what you like, and I'll go off here and talk with Mr. Brown so as not to disturb you." He was learning and the lesson was already bringing him pleasure. He took the shopkeeper aside and had a little talk with him, learning from him all he could of Clark's family and circumstances. It was an amazement to him. He had never known what a burden Clark had carried. The shopkeeper spoke of him with great affection and with great respect. "He is the best man in the world," he said. He treated Livingstone with familiarity, but he spoke of Clark with respect. "He ought to be on the Avenue," he asserted; "and if everybody had their rights some would be where Mr. Clark is and Mr. Clark would be in their place." Livingstone was not prepared just then to gainsay this.