The Empire Annual for Girls, 1911 | Page 6

had been hard to realise the meaning of the day: now, for the first time, the spirit of Christmas flooded her heart, filled it with love, with a longing to help and to serve.
"Peg! Peg!" she cried breathlessly. "How beautiful of them! They have so little themselves, but they have remembered the old custom, the sweet old custom, and made Him welcome. . . ." Her eyes roamed to the window, and lit with sudden inspiration. She lifted her hand and pointed to a distant steeple rising above the trees. "They have all gone off to church--father and mother, and Amy and Fred--all the family together! That's why the house is empty. And dinner is waiting for their return!"
She turned again to the table, her housekeeper's eye taking in at a flash the paucity of its furnishings. "Peg! can this be all? All that they have to eat . . . ? Let us look in the kitchen. . . . I must make quite sure. . . ."
There was no feeling of embarrassment, no consciousness of impertinent curiosity, in the girls' minds as they investigated the contents of kitchen and larder. At that moment the house seemed their own, its people their people; they were just two more members of a big family, whose duty it was to look after the interests of their brothers and sisters while they were away; and when evidences of poverty and emptiness met them on every side, the two pairs of eyes met with a mutual impulse, so strong that it needed not to be put into words.
In another moment they had left the house behind and were running swiftly across the meadow towards the car. The chauffeur was busily engaged on the tyre, Jack and Tom helping, or hindering as the case might be. The hamper lay on the ground where it had been placed for greater security during the repairs. The girls nipped it up by its handles, and ran off again, regardless of protests and inquiries.
It was very heavy, delightfully heavy: the bearers rejoiced in its weight, wished it had been three times as heavy; the aching of their arms was a positive joy to them as they bore their burden into the little dining-room, and laid it down upon the floor.
[Sidenote: What shall we do with it?]
"Now! What shall we do now? Shall we lay out the things and make a display on the table, or shall we put the pie in the oven beside that tiny ghost of a joint, and the pudding in a pan beside the potatoes? Which do you think would be best?"
But Margaret shook her head.
"Neither! Oh! don't you see, both ways would look too human, too material. They would show too plainly that strangers had been in, and had interfered. I want it to look like a Christmas miracle . . . as if it had come straight. . . . We'll lay the basket just as it is, on the Christ Child's chair. . . ."
Peg nodded. She was an understanding Peg, and she rose at once to the poetry of the idea. Gently, reverently, the girls lifted the basket which was to have furnished their own repast, laid it on the carved-oak chair, and laid on its lid the painted card; then for a moment they stood side by side, gazing round the room, seeing in imagination the scene which would follow the return of the family from church . . . the incredulity, the amaze, the blind mystification, the joy. . . . Peg beamed in anticipation of the delight of the youngsters; Margaret had the strangest, eeriest feeling of looking straight into a sweet, worn face; of feeling the clasp of work-worn hands. It was imagination, she told herself, simple imagination, yet the face was alive. . . . Its features seemed more distinct than many which she knew in the flesh. She shivered slightly, and drew her sister from the room.
"Now, Peg, to cover up our tracks; to leave everything as we found it! This door was shut. . . . Have we moved anything from its place, left any footmarks on the floor? Be careful, dear, be careful! . . . Push that chair into place. . . ."
* * * * *
The tyre was repaired. The chauffeur was straightening his back after the long stoop. Jack and Tom were indignantly demanding what had been done with the hamper. Being hungry and unromantic, it took some little time to convince them that there had been no choice in the matter, and that the large family had a right to their luxuries which was not to be gainsaid. They had not seen the pitiful emptiness of the Christmas table; they had not seen the chair set ready for