CHAPTER XXIII CHRISTMAS

Christmas day was fair and cold. As Patty said at breakfast, it was in all respects a typical Christmas, except that there was no snow on the ground, and that she hadn’t heard any bells, nor had any presents as yet.

But after breakfast the last condition was decidedly changed. Gifts began to pour in, and what with untying the parcels the messengers brought, and the other parcels, which had arrived before, but had been kept until now unopened, Patty and Ruth were as busy as bees.

All the girls had sent Christmas remembrances. There was a book from Clementine, and a carved bookrack from Elise. Hilda sent Patty an old-fashioned brass candlestick, and Lorraine, a most complicated sofa-pillow, which she had embroidered herself. Adelaide gave her a little gilt picture-frame, and the other schoolgirls sent many trinkets and trifles.

Nor were the boys negligent of Patty’s pleasure.

Roger sent a great box of holly and flowers, and Clifford Morse sent a large box of candy.

Other boys sent various Christmas cards, and greetings, and many of them remembered Ruth as well as Patty.

The New England girl was quite bewildered by the excitement of the morning, for they were to take the eleven-thirty train for Vernondale, and there was scarcely time to look at all the gifts before they started.

Patty tore open the parcels rapidly, one after another, exclaimed with delight at their contents, and finally scrabbled all the wrapping-paper into a big heap, and declared it was time to dress for their journey.

The Fairfields themselves were to take their gifts for each other to Vernondale, for in the evening there was to be a family Christmas tree at Aunt Alice’s.

Patty had of course prepared gifts for all the Elliott family, as also had Grandma Elliott and Mr. Fairfield. These parcels, with some that were added by Ruth, filled two large suit-cases, and then there were left several bundles to be carried by hand.

When the party left The Wilberforce, with all this impedimenta, Patty said they looked as if they had been dispossessed.

At the ferry they met Kenneth, who was going to Vernondale on the same train. The boy, too, was laden with Christmas luggage, and merry greetings were exchanged.

“I’ve a gift here for each of you girls,” said Kenneth, “but I can’t find it now among all this trash. Mayn’t I come over to Mrs. Elliott’s this afternoon and bring them?”

“Not this afternoon,” said Patty, “because all the Tea Club girls are coming to see me then, and we wouldn’t have a boy around for anything. But come over this evening, when we have the Christmas tree; and ask Miss Daggett to come, too.”

“Thank you, I’ll ask her with pleasure; I’m afraid she won’t come, she goes out so little, but I hope she will. However, even if she won’t I’ll run over for a few moments, anyway.”

“Mr. Hepworth is coming this evening,” went on Patty, “and he’s going to bring my portrait for a Christmas present to me. He’s been painting it, you know, and it’s finished. I’ve never seen it at all, not even in the beginning; but papa says it’s a very good likeness. I’m crazy to see it.”

“Why!” exclaimed Kenneth, “my Christmas gift for you is a portrait of yourself, also; and I’ll wager anything you like that it looks more like you than the one Hepworth has done.”

“A portrait of me!” exclaimed Patty, “why, you can’t paint.”

“I didn’t say I painted it, and it isn’t exactly painted anyway; but it’s a portrait of you, and it looks more like you than anything Hepworth could possibly do.”

“Then it must be a photograph! but why should you give me a photograph of myself? Is it in a frame?”

“Yes, a pretty little Florentine frame.”

“Then the gift is really the frame; but I don’t see why you put my photograph in it; and anyway I didn’t know you had a picture of me. Pray, where did you get it?”

“I’ll show it to Ruth,” said Kenneth, “if you’ll promise not to look; for I don’t want you to see it until after you’ve expressed your opinion of Mr. Hepworth’s portrait.”

Kenneth unwrapped a parcel, and taking care not to let Patty see, Ruth looked at the contents.

“Oh,” she said, “I don’t think that looks like Patty!”

“Do you think it’s prettier than she is?” asked Kenneth, smiling.

“No,” replied Ruth, smiling, too; “I don’t think it’s half as pretty as Patty.”

“Well,” said Kenneth, “I don’t like to differ with you, but do you know, I think Patty will say that it looks exactly like her, and that it doesn’t flatter her a bit.”

“I believe she will,” said Ruth, and then they both laughed.

“You needn’t think I’m curious,” said Patty; “I can easily wait until evening to see a picture of myself. I shall take it out of the frame anyway, and put some other picture in.”

When they reached Vernondale Kenneth went directly to his aunt’s and the others went to Mrs. Elliott’s.

The whole family rushed to the door to meet them, and there was a general hubbub of Christmas greetings.

The packages and bundles were whisked away by Frank into the parlour, whose doors were kept carefully closed until the time should come for the Christmas tree.

Marian took possession of Patty and held her by the hand as if afraid she would run away. “Oh, Patty,” she kept saying, “I’m so glad to see you again. Do stay a long time, won’t you?”

Ruth was by no means neglected, for the Elliotts were a large-hearted family, and dearly enjoyed giving pleasure to the stranger within their gates.

About half an hour after their arrival Mr. Fairfield looked at his watch, and declared that it was time for him to go down to the station to meet the Philadelphia train.

“Oh, is Nan coming?” exclaimed Patty, for this was a surprise to her.

“Well, I’ll just go down to the station in case she should come,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling.

“Oh, Aunt Alice,” cried Patty, “it was lovely of you to ask Nan! Now we’ll have the whole family together.”

Mr. Fairfield soon returned, bringing Nan, who looked more pretty and charming than ever, with a sprig of holly tucked among her furs.

Patty flew at her and welcomed her warmly, for she dearly loved Nan and had not seen her since the autumn.

“When are you coming to New York?” cried Patty, “and when—oh, when are you coming to live with us?”

“Mother and I are going to New York soon after the holidays,” said Nan, “but I don’t think I shall go to live with the Fairfields until about Easter time.”

Then such a merry Christmas dinner as they had! Everybody talked and laughed so much they almost forgot to eat the array of good things Aunt Alice had provided.

“Do you remember our last family party?” asked Patty. “It was at Boxley Hall, last New Year’s Day, and I sat at the head of the table.”

“Yes,” said Aunt Alice, “and a very graceful and capable little hostess you were.”

“And next Christmas,” said Mr. Fairfield, “the Fairfields will again entertain the Elliotts, and Mrs. Fairfield will preside at her own table.”

Nan blushed and smiled, and seconded the invitation very prettily.

After dinner Marian carried Ruth and Patty off to her own room to await the coming of the Tea Club girls. Marian and Ruth seemed to like each other at once, and when the other girls arrived they were also quite ready to make friends with the Boston visitor.

The Tea Club girls all brought little gifts to Patty, who had also prepared small Christmas remembrances for them.

The Tea Club had always been noted for its merry times, but to-day they fairly outdid themselves. Patty told them they were as merry as Grigs, and assured them that higher commendation was impossible.

Later, Nan joined the group, and as she was well known to the girls from her visit of the summer before, they were all delighted to see her again.

At six o’clock the Tea Club girls regretfully went home, all promising to call on Patty again early the next morning.

Then came the evening fun. Frank declared that there was not room for another parcel in the parlour. He said that the budget Nan brought was the last straw, and that when Mr. Hepworth and Kenneth arrived he hoped they’d have consideration enough not to bring any bundles.

But his hopes were in vain, for not only did the two come well laden, but Miss Daggett accompanied her nephew, and she, too, had her hands full.

However, room was made somehow, and at last Frank threw open the parlour doors and invited them all to come in.

Although the tree, with its decorations and candles, was ostensibly for the little children, Edith and Gilbert, yet everybody shared in the enjoyment of it.

And everybody had so many presents that they scarcely had time to look at the others’ gifts.

Mr. Fairfield gave Patty a dear little watch, and Nan gave her a chatelaine pin to wear with it. Marian gave her a ring, Ruth a book, and everybody present gave her some pretty token.

Kenneth announced that his gift for Patty was a portrait of herself, but he was not willing to exhibit it until after Mr. Hepworth’s portrait had been shown, for he felt sure his was the better likeness.

Mr. Hepworth looked a little surprised at this, but good-naturedly said he was quite willing to have his work criticised, and he unveiled a portrait which stood on an easel.

It was a beautiful picture of Patty, and though perhaps a trifle idealised, it was truly a portrait of the girl’s nature, and showed a face beaming with happiness, yet with earnest eyes that betokened the dawning of a sweet and true woman-hood.

Everybody was delighted with it. There could be no adverse criticism on such a beautiful piece of work.

While the others were exclaiming over its merits Patty expressed her thanks a little shyly to Mr. Hepworth.

“Thank you,” she said, “for thinking that I look like that. I wish I might think so, and I hope I may some day possess all that the picture seems to attribute to me.”

“You do, already,” said Mr. Hepworth.

Then Kenneth announced that he would now show his portrait of Patty.

“I don’t care,” he said, “for the opinion of anybody except Patty herself. Indeed, when the rest of you look at it I’m quite prepared to hear you say it doesn’t resemble her in the least. But I’m sure that Patty will say it is a perfect likeness.”

With a flourish the boy threw off the wrapping-papers and handed Patty a flat box. Patty took from the box a gilt Florentine frame, and holding it so that the others could see only the back, she gazed at the picture it contained and said:

“You are right, Kenneth, it is a perfect likeness! and I must confess it is a more exact portrait of me than Mr. Hepworth’s, though his is far more beautiful.”

Then Patty turned the frame around and showed that it contained no portrait at all, but a mirror!

How everybody laughed at Kenneth’s joke, and Mr. Hepworth picked up the mirror, and, looking in it, said: “Well, if you think that looks like Miss Fairfield! why, my picture of her is a much better likeness!”

“I said nobody would agree with me, except Patty,” replied Kenneth, “and I’m more than willing to admit the merits of your picture.”

The rest of the evening was spent in merry games and fun, and even the little children were allowed to sit up until the close of the festivities.

Miss Daggett enjoyed herself thoroughly, and so did Ruth. As for the Elliotts and Fairfields, it is not necessary to say that they had a good time.

“I suppose you care more for Mr. Hepworth’s gift than you do for mine,” said Kenneth, as he and Patty stood looking at the portrait later in the evening.

“I don’t know,” said Patty.

“Of course, his is of far greater value in every way,” went on Kenneth; “so if you did care more for mine, it would be because you cared more for me. Do you?”

“I don’t know,” said Patty.

The End