Those holidays were a never-to-be-forgotten time in Rotha's life. Christmas eve, and indeed a day before, there was a great bustle and rush of movement in the house, almost all the boarders sweeping away to their various homes. Their example was followed by the under teachers; only Miss Blodgett remained; and a sudden lull took place of the rush. A small table was drawn out in the middle room; and Mrs. Mowbray came to dinner with a face, tired indeed, but set for play. The days of the ordinary weeks were always thick set with business; the weight of business was upon every heart; now it was unmitigated holiday. Nobody knew better how to play than Mrs. Mowbray; it was in her very air and voice and words. Perhaps some of this was assumed for the sake of others; a large portion of it was unquestionably real. The table was festive, that Christmas eve; flowers dressed it; the dessert was gay with confections and bonbons, as well as ice cream; and there was a breath of promise and anticipation in Mrs. Mowbray's manner that infected the dullest spirits there. And some of the girls were very dull! But Rotha's sprang up as if she had been in paradise. "Are you going to hang up your stocking, Miss Blodgett?" Miss Blodgett bridled and smiled and was understood to express her opinion that she was "too old." "'Too old!' My dear Miss Blodgett! One is never too old to be happy. I intend to be as happy as ever I can. I shall hang up _my_ stocking; and I expect everybody to put something in it." "You ought to have let us know that beforehand, madame," said Miss Blodgett. "Let you know beforehand!" said Mrs. Mowbray, while her eye twinkled mischievously: "My dear friend! I don't want any but free-will offerings. You didn't think I was going to levy black mail? did you? Miss Blodgett! I thought you knew me better." Whether she were in jest or in earnest, Rotha could not make up her mind. She was laughing at Miss Blodgett, that Rotha saw; but was it all nonsense about the stocking and the gifts? Mrs. Mowbray's sweet eyes were dancing with fun, her lips wreathed with the loveliest archness; whatever she meant, Rotha was utterly and wholly bewitched. She ran on for some little time, amusing herself and the girls, and putting slow Miss Blodgett in something of an embarrassment, she was so much too quick for her. "Are you going to hang up your stocking, Miss Emory?" Miss Emory in her turn smiled and bridled, and seemed at a loss how to answer. "Miss Eutable?" "Yes, ma'am." "Certainly. We will all hang up our stockings. Do you think by the chimney is the best place, Louisa?" The girl addressed was a little girl, left in Mrs. Mowbray's care while her parents were in Europe. She dimpled and declared she supposed one place was as good as another. "But you believe Santa Claus comes down the chimney?" "I always knew better, Mrs. Mowbray."