Linda sat bending over an embroidered piece she was doing for Grace's Christmas. There was a reminiscent look on her face. This would be her first Christmas since Martin died. It would be hard not to spend the day as usual in the old home, and harder still not to hear the voice of him who had always made Christmas a happy day for her. Yet, after all, it would be less lonely with Miss Ri, for had not the dear woman made this a true home for her? It was like her to plan this outing, that the girl might not yearn too deeply for past joys. There would not be the old church to decorate, as in the years gone by, but on Christmas Eve she could take wreaths to the churchyard. Her thoughts were far away when Miss Ri's voice roused her. "Well, shall we go?" "If you really think you would enjoy having me," answered Linda, coming back to the present. "I think you are a darling to ask me." "Of course I'd enjoy having you. We can have our Christmas here--Phebe would be broken-hearted if we didn't allow her to cook our Christmas dinner--and then we'll pack up our duds and go. I don't know that I can take you to any big functions, but we can have a mighty good time, I truly believe. We ought to have someone to dine with us on Christmas Day to make it more festive. I'd ask Berk, but he wouldn't miss spending the day with his mother for worlds. We might have Parthy and Mr. Jeffreys. Parthy hasn't any too good a woman in the kitchen, and it would suit all around; give her a rest and please the cook." So it was arranged, and Linda looked forward quite joyously to the ten days in the city. Never before had such a treat been hers; a few days at a time had been the utmost of her stay. She had gone to her brother's wedding, a showy affair in which she had little heart, and had several times remained with a friend over Sunday, but this was a very different affair. Phebe, on being consulted as to whom she would prefer to look after while the two were absent, gave an unqualified vote for Mr. Berk. "He so jokey, Miss Ri," she said, "an' he do look at my wittles lak he can't wait. Den he a gem'man. I laks to wait on a rale gem'man, one o' de ole fambly kin'. Mr. Jeffs he a gem'man, too, I specs, but he don' know nuffin how to talk to us niggers. He so solemn, lak ole owl, or fo' all de worl' lak a preacher. He tas'es dis an' he tas'es dat lak he dunno whe'r he gwine lak it or no. Mr. Berk he shake he haid an' say, 'Um-um, dat sholy look good.' Mr. Jeffs ack lak he feard somebody think he enjyin' hisse'f, but Mr. Berk thes pitch in an enjy hisse'f 'thout carin' what anybody think." Miss Ri laughed and, upon the occasion of her next walk down town, stopped at Berk's office to ask if he would take possession and sleep nights at her house during the holidays. He responded with alacrity, promising to behave himself, but begging that he might be allowed to take his meals at the hotel.