"I can tell who put that in," said her friend — "Aunt Sophia. I know her little bottles of Cologne water. Do you love Cologne water? Aunt Sophia's is delicious." Ellen did like it very much, and was extremely pleased. Ellen Chauncey had also a new pair of scissors, which gave entire satisfaction. "Now, I wonder what all this toe is stuffed with," said she, — "raisins and almonds, I declare! — and yours the same, isn't it? Well, don't you think we have got enough sweet things? Isn't this a pretty good Christmas?" "What are you about, you monkeys?" cried the voice of Aunt Sophia, from the dressing-room door. "Alice, Alice! do look at them. Come right back to bed, both of you. Crazy pates! It is lucky it is Christmas day — if it was any other in the year, we should have you both sick in bed; as it is, I suppose you will go scot free." Laughing, and rosy with pleasure, they came back and got into bed together; and for an hour afterwards the two kept up a most animated conversation, intermixed with long chuckles and bursts of merriment, and whispered communications of immense importance. The arrangement of the painted needlebook was entirely decided upon in this consultation; also two or three other matters; and the two children seemed to have already lived a day since day-break by the time they came down to breakfast. After breakfast, Ellen applied secretly to Alice, to know if she could write _very_ beautifully — she exceedingly wanted something done. "I should not like to venture, Ellie, if it must be so superfine; but John can do it for you." "Can he? Do you think he would?" "I am sure he will, if you ask him." "But I don't like to ask him," said Ellen, casting a doubtful glance at the window. "Nonsense, he's only reading the newspaper. You won't disturb him." "Well, you won't say anything about it?" "Certainly not." Ellen accordingly went near, and said, gently, "Mr. Humphreys!" — but he did not seem to hear her. "Mr. Humphreys!" — a little louder. "He has not arrived yet," said John, looking round gravely. He spoke so gravely, that Ellen could not tell whether he were joking or serious. Her face of extreme perplexity was too much for his command of countenance. "Whom do you want to speak to?" said he, smiling. "I wanted to speak to you, Sir," said Ellen, "if you are not too busy." "_Mr. Humphreys_ is always busy," said he, shaking his head; "but _Mr. John_ can attend to you at any time, and _John_ will do for you whatever you please to ask him." "Then, Mr. John," said Ellen, laughing, "if you please, I wanted to ask you to do something for me, very much indeed, if you are not too busy; Alice said I shouldn't disturb you." "Not at all; I've been long enough over this stupid newspaper. What is it?" "I want you, if you will be so good," said Ellen, "to write a little bit for me on something, very beautifully." " 'Very beautifully!' Well — come to the library; we will see."