the trevors’ programme on christmas day differed from those of their friends, and possessed in their opinion many striking advantages. no presents were given in the morning; it was enough excitement to know that it was christmas day, and to linger over a late and luxurious breakfast before going to church. there was something particularly inspiring about the moment when the great congregation rose in the ivy-decked church and burst into song—
“hark, the herald angels sing,
glory to the new-born king!”
even jill had a fleeting realisation that the true meaning of christmas was something quite apart from presents, and turkey, and plum-puddings, while betty’s thoughts flew back to the day of her confirmation, and she vowed herself anew to the service of the king. jack sang the well-known words with a new attention—“christ the everlasting lord;” this was the same christ who was general digby’s “captain.” “i am here to obey my captain’s orders,”—the words rang in his ears, and he saw once more the wonderful softening of the fierce old face. miles did not sing at all; his voice was still hoarse and broken, and his set expression gave little clue to his feelings, but pam’s treble was clear and sweet, and her little face shone with innocent fervour.
after church came a walk through the—well! it should have been “the crisp cold air,” but unfortunately the weather showed no sense of propriety, and in reality it was as dank and cheerless a day as even london itself can produce in mid-winter. as the advance guard in the shape of miles and betty neared their own doorway, a dainty figure ran down the steps, and there was cynthia alliot, blooming like a delicate pink rose in the midst of the fog.
“you!” cried betty in surprise, and then awkwardly attempted the difficult task of introduction. “er—this is my brother miles! miles—this is—”
“the pampered pet!” interrupted cynthia, laughing. miles knit his brows in the fashion he had when ill at ease, and mumbled an unintelligible greeting, but cynthia was not in the least embarrassed. she smiled at him as frankly as if he had been another betty, yet with a little air of gracious dignity which is rarely found in girls of her age. she was quite simple and unaffected, but one could never imagine her taking part in the free-and-easy, slangy, unchivalrous intercourse which so often prevails nowadays between girls and boys. she held herself like a queen, and silent miles looked at her, and in the depths of his honest heart vowed himself to her service.
“what did you call for?” betty queried. “did you want to see me? was it about to-morrow? we are going to call for you at half-past two. we can walk, i suppose, unless it is wet?”
“oh yes, it will be far nicer. i do hope it will be fine. this is not at all a cheerful christmas, is it? good-bye! i do hope you’ll have a lovely time!” returned cynthia, waving her hand and crossing the road towards her own doorway. it was too late to remind her that she had not answered the last question, and the first sight of the hall table banished every other thought, for on it lay the pile of christmas cards whose advent had been so eagerly expected. betty seized the bundle and began doling them out, while her brothers and sisters clustered round, and clamoured for their share.
“miss trevor—miss trevor—miss trevor—(betty, it’s not fair, you are taking them all!) miss jill trevor, miss jm trevor, mrs trevor, james trevor, esquire, md—(looks like a bill! how mean to send a bill on christmas day!) miss trevor, miss pamela trevor,” so it went on, the major share falling to the three girls, the boys coming in only for an occasional missive from an aunt or some such kindly relation, who suddenly awoke to the fact of their existence at christmas time. when the cards were dealt out there still remained a little pile of envelopes which had apparently been delivered by hand, as no stamps appeared beside the addresses. betty pounced on them, and gave a shout of delight.
“there’s money inside! there is, i can feel it. mine’s quite small—like a—a—” she dropped the remaining envelopes to open her own in a flutter of excitement. inside there was a folded piece of paper enclosing a second envelope—one of those tiny, dainty affairs in which some old-fashioned tradesmen still deliver change to their customers. in her haste betty ripped it open, and held up to view a brand new sovereign.
“it is! it is! how s–imply lovely! i was so hard up—and now! what perfect angel can have sent it?”
she picked up the piece of paper which she had dropped in her haste, and read aloud, “with the best wishes of terence digby,” the while her brothers and sisters made short work of their own envelopes. jack and jill had each a new ten-shilling piece, and pam a magnificent silver crown, the size of which delighted her even more than the value.
“he said he would send me something, but i never thought it would be money. it’s what i like better than anything else, to be rich in the christmas holidays!” jill cried rapturously, and mrs trevor smiled and said—
“so he seemed to think. he asked my permission before sending his presents in this form, and said he would like to give you money, because when he was a boy an old lady used to send new coins to himself and his brothers every christmas in these same little envelopes, and he had never forgotten the pleasure they gave him. yes! you will feel rich, but don’t be in too great a hurry to spend your fortunes, for the general may wish to speak to you on that point.”
jill shrugged her shoulders disgustedly.
“bother! i hope he won’t want us to spend it sensibly! that would take away all the fun. i want to keep it in my purse, and fritter it away just as i like. what’s the good of giving presents, and not letting you use them as you like?”
“well, well, what’s the use of grumbling before you know if there is anything to grumble about?” returned mrs trevor, laughing. she moved away, carrying her bundle of letters, and the children followed her example, and spent a happy half-hour examining, displaying, and comparing cards and calendars.
then came lunch, a glorified lunch with “party” sweets, and dessert, finishing up with a big dish of chestnuts to roast over the fire. the doctor was at home for the afternoon, having made the round of his serious patients in the morning (abominably selfish of anyone to be ill on christmas day!), and that fact alone gave a festivity to the afternoon tea, while ever in the background lurked the delightful anticipation of presents—presents to come!
other people had done with all their excitement before now, and had even grown accustomed to their new possessions, but betty and jill donned last year’s party dresses for dinner in a flutter of anticipation, and then hurried downstairs, each with an armful of parcels to add to the store which had been accumulating in the library all day long.
the sofa was full of them—neat brown—paper parcels, bulky parcels, shapeless parcels, tissue-paper parcels, large and small, dainty and the reverse, boxes, envelopes, and a mysterious pyramid covered with a sheet, over which pam mounted jealous guard. betty had just time to arrange the parcels on two large trays, and see the larger articles conveyed into the dining-room and hidden behind a screen, before the gong rang, and dinner began.
there was the orthodox turkey and roast beef, plum-pudding and mince-pies, but when dessert was over there came a moment of thrilling excitement, as the servants placed one heaped trayful of presents on the table before dr trevor, and another at the bottom before his wife. the long-looked-for moment had come at last!
well, it was a pleasant sight to see the twinkle in the doctor’s tired eyes as he looked round the table at his five children, and exchanged a smile of comradeship with his pretty wife. his long delicate hand, the true doctor’s hand, lifted the topmost parcel from the tray, and held it aloft while he read aloud the laborious inscription—“‘to miles, hopping he will like it, from pam.’ here you are, miles!” and down the table it went, from one eager pair of hands to another, while pam blushed a vivid red, and wriggled bashfully on her chair.
there were a great many wrappings, and the dimensions of the parcel diminished so rapidly as to excuse serious fears that it contained nothing more substantial than a joke, but such an idea was an insult to pam’s generosity. she had bestowed much thought on the choice of this special present, and could not in the least understand the roar of laughter which rose from every side as the last paper fell away to disclose a magnificent sixpenny tooth-brush in all its creamy splendour.
miles’ face was a study as he gazed upon it, and turned it speculatively to and fro.
“anything personal meant, pam?” he inquired, and, “yes, please, miles!” replied innocent pam, and blushed again to the verge of tears at the second shout of merriment.
“it’s a very useful present, dear,” mrs trevor said consolingly, and hastened to give the conversation a turn by doling out another parcel from her own tray.
“‘betty, with love from jill.’”
it was a very small parcel, and betty looked at it with suspicion, remembering the sticking-plaster and watered eau de cologne, but things turned out better than she expected, the enclosure being quite a pretty hat-pin, of a colour to match her best hat.
“just what i wanted!” was both the true and the gracious manner of acknowledging this trophy, as also the book from jack, and the gloves from miles, which presently fell to her share. then it was the doctor’s turn, his wife having retired behind the screen to bring forth an enormous parcel, which could only be laid on a chair by his side, since it was far too big to place on the table itself.
“for me? why, what can this be? it feels like a blanket!” he cried in astonishment, and his face was a picture of mingled surprise, pleasure, and consternation, as a handsome fur-lined carriage rug was presently revealed to view. “oh, this is too much! this won’t do! edith, what reckless extravagance!”
“not extravagance at all,” his wife answered sturdily. “you must be kept warm, driving about from morning till night. it is nothing less than a necessity which you ought to have had years ago. besides, it’s not my gift alone—it’s a joint affair. the children all contributed—it’s from all six of us, with our best love to you, dearest.”
“i gave threepence,” announced pam proudly, thereby bringing a smile to her father’s face, though his voice had a suspicious quiver in it as he said—
“thank you, my six darlings!” and smoothed the rug with a loving touch. its presence would keep not only his body but his heart warm on many a wintry day to come.
after this, the parcel-opening went on fast and furious. pam received a young lady doll, and had barely recovered from the rapture of her arrival when, presto! there appeared a miniature travelling-box, covered with leather, provided with straps, and a white pt painted at the sides, just like a real true grown-up box! and inside—a veritable trousseau! the work of loving mother hands on many a winter evening—a blue serge coat and skirt, a party frock of pale pink silk, a long white cloak; a straw hat for ordinary wear, and—could you believe it?—a toque, boa, and muff of real fur, just like that old muff of mother’s that she wore before the new one arrived. beneath these treasures a supply of under garments, including a dear little flannel dressing-jacket, and bedroom slippers to match. never, no, never since the creation of the world did a little girl of eight years receive a more all-satisfying and delightful offering! in her parents’ eyes at least, pam’s little face, aglow with innocent rapture, was the most beautiful sight of that happy christmas day.
jack had a book from his father, a knitted tie from betty, skates from his mother—oh, for a good hard frost!—some cast-off tools from miles, and a packet of black sticking-plaster from jill. he grinned broadly over this last offering, and while the parcel-opening went on on both sides fumbled mysteriously beneath the tablecloth. five minutes later, as he joined the others in a burst of laughter, his mother started violently, and cried, “jack! what has happened!” in a tone of dismay which brought every eye upon him. freckled nose, twinkling eyes, outstanding ears—no change to be seen in these well-known features, but the teeth—the teeth! between lips extended in broadest of smiles appeared horrible, isolated tusks standing out conspicuously from the black gaps on either side. what in the name of all that was mysterious and perplexing had happened to those rows of sound regular ivories which had been his chief beauty five minutes before? and what an alteration in his whole appearance! extraordinary to think of the change which was effected by the loss of half a dozen little teeth!
after the first start of surprise, understanding dawned quickly enough. jill’s present had been short-lived, but it had served its purpose, both in her eyes and jack’s, in causing the sensation of the evening, and the mother’s pitiful, “take them off, jack dear, do! you look so dreadful!” could not persuade jack to peel off the disfiguring black squares. it was too dear a triumph to a schoolboy’s heart to create shudders of disgust every time he opened his mouth!
the pile of presents on the trays waxed rapidly less and less, the last parcel of all being of exceptional daintiness,—tissue-paper, tied round with a narrow blue ribbon. it was addressed to betty, and to her rapturous surprise contained a line of congratulation from cynthia alliot, and the exact duplicate of an artistic silver and enamel buckle which she had admired on her friend’s belt a few days before. she was so entirely occupied crooning over this treasure, that she did not notice that pam had suddenly slipped from her chair and pushed the screen aside, leaving the tall draped mystery fully exposed to view.
“it’s my present,” she explained proudly. “for mother. just what she wanted! cook hid it for me, and covered it with these clothes.” she stood on tiptoe as she spoke, taking out the pins which held the coverings together. they fell to the ground, and revealed a handsome branching palm, standing four or five feet from the ground. mrs trevor uttered an exclamation of incredulous surprise, and indeed every face round the table expressed the same sentiment, for the plant was obviously expensive, and how in the world could pam have purchased it out of an income of a penny a week?
“my darling! for me? that is indeed a magnificent present. where did it come from, dear? has someone joined with you to give a present to mother?”
before now it had happened that a friend of the family had consulted the children as to their mother’s wishes in the matter of christmas presents, and it seemed the most likely solution of the mystery that this had occurred once again, pam contributing in the same proportion as she had done to her father’s rug. but no! pam proudly denied the insinuation, and repeated—
“it’s my very own present i bought it myself.”
“but, my sweetheart—” began mrs trevor anxiously, and then checked herself at the thought of another possible explanation. “did someone give you some money, dear, that i knew nothing about?”
“oh no! i haven’t had any money, only general digby’s to-day.”
“then how— i am very pleased and delighted to have the palm, but i can’t enjoy it properly until i know a little more about how it came into your possession. it is such a very big present for a little girl. how did you get all the money, dear?”
pam smiled with an air of innocent pride.
“it wasn’t—all—money!” she said, smiling.
“not all money? what do you mean? if it was not all money, what was the rest?”
“clothes!”
“clothes!” cried mrs trevor vaguely.
“clothes!” echoed her husband.
“clothes!” shrieked betty in a shrill treble.
“cl–othes!” repeated the boys curiously. only jill’s face lit up with comprehension, mingled with a spice of resentment.
“i know—i know! old clothes, she means! she has been selling old clothes—our old clothes, if you please—to ‘all a-growing all a-blowing’ in exchange for the palm! he likes them better than money. i heard him say so one day when pam was seeing me off at the door. that’s where dad’s old coat has gone to, that’s where your blouse is, betty, not to mention some of the boys’ ties, and gloves, and my umbrella. oh, you wretched child! the hours i’ve spent searching for it! that’s where everything has gone that we have been searching for for the last month. she has been gathering them together for the palm!”
mrs trevor’s face was a study of complex emotion as she looked at her baby, but pam’s triumphant satisfaction did not waver for a moment. she nodded her head, and cried cheerfully—
“oh, lots more things than that! he wanted so much, because palms is most expensive of all before christmas, and i bought it when you were all out, and cook hid it, and we sprayed its leaves to make them bright. in her last place miss bella did them every week with milk-and-water to make them shine!”
she had not the least idea that there was anything to be ashamed of in her action; on the contrary, she was full of pride in her own cleverness. but it was impossible to allow such an occasion to pass, even on christmas evening, when discipline is necessarily relaxed. mrs trevor’s face was an eloquent mingling of tenderness and distress as she said—
“but did it never strike you, pam dear, that these things were not your own to sell? that you had no right to sell them?”
“they were no use. you said to father, ‘that coat is too disgraceful to be worn,’ and betty said the blouse mortified her pride, and jill made fun of her umbrella because it was three and eleven-pence, and the wires bulged out. she said, ‘i can’t think why it is that i always lose silk ones, and i can’t get rid of this wretched thing, do what i will!’ i thought,”—pam’s voice sounded a tremulous note of disappointment—“i thought you would all be pleased with me for clearing them away.”
“it would have been different, dear, if you had asked our permission, though we all have to put up with shabby things sometimes. as it was, it was both wrong and dishonest to take things which belonged to other people, and sell them without permission.”
“but i sold my own too! my blue coat and hat, because you said yourself they didn’t suit me, and you couldn’t bear to see them on. i heard you speaking to betty, and saying those very words. i thought you’d be pleased if you never did see them again!”
mrs trevor gasped in consternation.
“oh, pam, pam, what am i to say to you? this is worse than i imagined! your blue coat—and it was quite good still! i can’t possibly accept a present obtained in such a way!”
she cast an appealing glance at her husband, who had been sitting covering his mouth with his hand, and trying in vain to subdue the twinkle in his eyes as he listened to pam’s extraordinary confession. now he looked at the child’s frightened, shrinking face, and said kindly—
“i think pam and i will have a quiet talk together while you adjourn to the drawing-room. she did not mean to do wrong, and i am sure she will never offend again in the same way when she understands things in their right light.”
so mrs trevor and the elder children went to the drawing-room, and, ten minutes later, a subdued little pam crept up to her mother’s side, holding out a bright crown-piece on her palm.
“father says general digby would like me best to pay my debts. will you please give some to the others to pay for the things i took?”
“thank you, pam. i shall be very pleased to do so,” said mrs trevor quietly. her heart ached at being obliged to take the child’s fortune from her, but she knew it was the right thing to do, and would not allow herself to hesitate. “and now, darling, i shall be delighted to have the palm. it is indeed the very thing i wanted.”
pam tried to smile, but her lips quivered. a whole crown-piece, and a new one into the bargain! a vanderbilt deprived of his millions could not have felt his poverty more bitterly than she did at that moment!
