All her married life Edith Carow Roosevelt had kept a firm hand on her emotions, not letting any useless jealousy creep in to raise a cloud between her and her husband. He was hers and had been for many years and their children were proof of the constancy of his love. He adored them all, though now and then his was the firm hand that supplied the occasionally needed discipline and punishment. The children’s worship of their father was only too evident in the way they followed him about, having scant enthusiasm for any game in which he did not join. They sat quietly together for an hour, then Theodore asked, “Do you think it’s safe to get the Christmas presents out now? It’s getting late.” “Let’s wait a little longer. Ted never goes to sleep promptly, and Ethel and Kermit were both very excited when Mame put them to bed.” “Good old Mame! I bought her a locket. Probably a frivolous gift for Mame, but everyone needs something foolish and gay to liven up life now and then.” “She has been faithful for years. I couldn’t have raised the children without Mame. She doesn’t get along too well with the other servants at times, but they’re used to her blunt way now and ignore her difficult days,” Edith said. “We all have difficult days,” he remarked. “I know there have been times, when I was harassed and frustrated by outside events, that I have been difficult to live with.” “You have learned to control your emotions very well lately,” she said, “though sometimes I have thought you a bit too impulsive.” “You mean going off at half cock, lacking in sober judgment. I know that. No one knows it better than I. All my life I’ve battled against going at things headlong, the way I fought in Cuba, and struggled to put down graft and corruption when I was with the New York Police Commission.” “I still hate thinking of that winter when times were so hard and we were so short of money. I still can’t bear to see a slice of bread wasted. Theodore, listen!” She rose suddenly. “It’s a wagon coming up the drive.” They both hurried to the front door. A wagon drawn by two horses was slowly coming up the hill, lanterns hung upon it and sleigh bells jingling merrily from about the necks of the horses. It was filled with young people who were singing at the tops of their voices. _God rest ye merry, gentlemen! let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas day._ “How sweet!” exclaimed Edith. “We ought to invite them in.” The noise would rouse the children, she knew unhappily, as the youngsters went on into another carol. Theodore walked out to the wagon to deliver the invitation, while Edith racked her brain to think what she had in the house to offer a crowd of young fry, who would certainly have huge appetites. There might be cookies in the pantry or apples. The cook always kept a supply of cookies on hand as Theodore often put a few in his pockets when he went on his almost daily rambles over the countryside.