"Presents." Something quite outside of herself had forced the answer. "Exactly. Now, Edith, surely it need not take all your time for a month before Christmas to buy a few paltry presents, and all of it for two months afterward to get over buying them!" "But, Jasper, they are n't few, and they're anything but paltry. Imagine giving Uncle Harold a _paltry_ present!" retorted Edith, with some spirit. The man waved an impatient hand. "Very well, we will call them magnificent, then," he conceded. "But even in that case, surely the countless stores full of beautiful and useful articles, and with a list properly tabulated, and a sufficiency of money--" An expressive gesture finished his sentence. The woman shook her head. "I know; it sounds easy," she sighed, "but it is n't. It's so hard to think up what to give, and after I 've thought it up and bought it, I 'm just sure I ought to have got the other thing." "But you should have some system about it." "Oh, I had--a list," she replied dispiritedly. "But I'm so--tired." Jasper Hawkins suddenly squared his shoulders. "How many names have you left now to buy presents for?" he demanded briskly. "Three--Aunt Harriet, and Jimmy, and Uncle Harold. They always get left till the last. They're so--impossible." "Impossible? Nonsense!--and I'll prove it to you, too. Give yourself no further concern, Edith, about Christmas, if _that_ is all there is left to do--just consider it done." "Do you mean--you'll get the presents for them?" "Most certainly." "But, Jasper, you know--" An imperative gesture silenced her. "My dear, I'm doing this to relieve you, and that means that you are not even to think of it again." "Very well; er--thank you," sighed the woman; but her eyes were troubled. Not so Jasper's; his eyes quite sparkled with anticipation as he left the house some minutes later.