The only thing that had dimmed Grace Harlowe's pleasure in the least was the pa.s.sage at arms that had occurred between herself and Henry Hammond.

Grace's conscience smote her. She felt that she should not have spoken to him as she had, even though she disliked him. To be sure, his remark about Marian's gown had caused her inwardly to accuse him of influencing Marian to make herself ridiculous in the eyes of her friends, but she could not forgive herself for having unthinkingly spoken as she had done.

After due reflection Grace decided that she had acted unwisely, and made up her mind that she would try to make amends for her unkind retort. She decided, however, to see if she could not persuade Marian to go back to her usual style of dress.

Grace hurried through her dressing, and looking very sweet and wholesome in her dainty blue organdie, knocked at the door of the room occupied by Marian and Eva Allen.

"Come in," cried Eva's voice, and Grace entered, to find Eva completely dressed in a pretty white pongee, eyeing with great disfavor the tight-fitting princess gown of black silk that the maid was struggling to hook Marian into.

"Marian!" exclaimed Grace. "What ever made you have a black evening gown? It makes you look years older than you are."

"That's exactly what I told her," said Eva Allen, "but she won't believe it."

Marian looked sulky, then said rather sullenly: "I really can't see what difference it makes to you girls what I wear. I haven't interfered with you in the matter of your gowns, have I?"

"No," replied Grace truthfully, "but Marian, I think the judge likes to see us in the simple evening dresses we have been accustomed to wearing, and as we are his guests we ought to try and please him. Besides, you would look so much better in your white embroidered dress, or your pink silk, that you wore to commencement last year."

"I don't agree with, you at all," replied Marian so stiffly that the maid smiled openly, as she put the final touches to Marian's hair preparatory to adjusting the cl.u.s.ter of puffs that had completed her astonishing coiffure the night before. "Furthermore, I have been a.s.sured by persons of extreme good taste that my new gowns give me a distinct individuality I have never before possessed."

"That person of extreme good taste is named Hammond," thought Grace.

"That remark about 'individuality' sounds just like him. I'll make one more appeal to her."

Going over to where Marian stood viewing herself with satisfaction in the long mirror, Grace slipped her arm around her old friend.

"Listen, dear," she coaxed, "we mustn't quarrel on Christmas Eve. You know we are all Phi Sigma Taus and it seems so strange to see you looking so stately and grown up. Put on your white dress to-night, just to please me."

But Marian drew away from her, frowning angrily. "Really, Grace," she exclaimed, "you are too provoking for any use, and I wish you would mind your own business and let me wear what I choose."

"Please pardon me, Marian," said Grace, turning toward the door. "I am sorry to have troubled you," and was gone like a flash.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Marian Barber!" burst forth Eva.

"The idea of telling Grace to mind her own business! You haven't been a bit like yourself lately, and I know that it's all on account of that Henry Hammond, the old snake."

"You will oblige me greatly, Eva, by referring more respectfully to my friend, Mr. Hammond," said Marian with offended dignity. Then she sailed out of the room, her train dragging half a yard behind her, while Eva turned to the mirror with a contemptuous sniff and powdered her little freckled nose almost savagely before following her irate roommate down stairs.

CHAPTER XI

SANTA CLAUS VISITS THE JUDGE

The moment that dinner was over the judge was hustled into the library by Nora and Miriam, and informed by them that they const.i.tuted a committee of two to amuse him until eleven o'clock. He was their prisoner and they dared him to try to escape.

Next to Grace, Nora, with her rosy cheeks and ready Irish wit was perhaps the judge's favorite, while he had a profound admiration for stately Miriam; so he was well satisfied with his captors, who triumphantly conducted him to the drawing room, where Miriam played and Nora sang Irish ballads with a delicious brogue that completely captivated the old gentleman.

At eleven o'clock there was a great jingling of bells and into the room dashed Santa Claus, looking as fat and jolly as a story-book Kris Kringle.

"Merry Christmas," he cried in a high squeaky voice. "It's a little early to wish you Merry Christmas, judge, but I've an engagement in China at midnight so I thought I'd drop in here a trifle early, leave a few toys for you and your little playmates and be gone. I always make it a point to remember good little boys. So hurry up, everybody, and follow me, for I haven't long to stay."

With these words Kris Kringle dashed through the hall followed by the judge who, entering fully into the spirit of the affair, seized Nora and Miriam by the hand and the three raced after their strange visitor at full speed, catching up with him at the door of the dining room which was closed. Here Santa Claus paused and gave three knocks on the oak door.

"Who is there?" demanded a voice, that sounded like David Nesbit's.

"Kris Kringle and three good children."

"Enter into the realm of Christmas," answered the voice, and the door was flung open.

The sight that greeted them was sufficiently brilliant to dazzle their eyes for a moment. In one corner of the dining room stood the great tree, radiant with gilt and silver ornaments. At the top was a huge silver star, while the branches were wound with glittering tinsel, and heavily laden with beribboned bundles of all shapes and sizes, while the s.p.a.ce around the base of the tree was completely filled with presents.

At one side of the tree stood a graceful figure clad in a white robe that glittered and sparkled as though covered with diamonds. She wore a gilt crown on her head and carried a scepter, while over her shoulder trailed a long garland of holly fastened with scarlet ribbons. It was Grace Harlowe in a robe made of cotton wadding thickly sprinkled with diamond dust, gotten up to represent the spirit of Christmas.

On the other side of the tree lay old Father Time, apparently fast asleep, his sickle by his side. His long white cotton beard flowed realistically down to his waist, and in his folded hands was a placard bearing these words, "Gone to sleep for the next hundred years," while in the opposite corner his sister and the rest of the guests had grouped themselves, and as the old gentleman stepped over the threshold, a chorus of laughing voices rang out:

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"

Then Grace glided forward and escorted the judge to a sort of double throne that had been improvised from two easy chairs raised to a small platform constructed by the boys, and draped with the piano cover, and a couple of silken curtains, while Santa Claus performed the same office for Miss Putnam.

After they had been established with great pomp and ceremony, Santa Claus awoke Father Time by shaking him vigorously, apologizing to the company between each shake for doing so, and promising to put him to sleep the moment the festivities were over.

Then the fun of distributing the presents began, and for the next hour a great unwrapping and rattling of papers ensued, mingled with constant exclamations of surprise and delight from all present, as they opened and admired their gifts.

The judge was particularly pleased with the little personal gifts that the girls themselves had made for him, and exclaimed with the delight of a schoolboy as he opened each one. At last nothing remained save one rather imposing package.

"This must be something very remarkable," said the judge, as he untied the bow of scarlet ribbon and unwrapped the folds of tissue paper, disclosing a cut gla.s.s inkstand, with a heavy silver top, on which were engraved his initials in block letters.

There was a general murmur of admiration from all.

"Very fine, very fine," said the judge, picking up the card which read, "Merry Christmas, from Miss Barber."

"Miss Barber?" he repeated questioningly. Then it dawned upon him that this expensive gift was from one of his guests.

"Pardon me, my dear," he said turning to Marian, who looked half complacent, half embarra.s.sed. "I am an old man and don't always remember names as well as I should. The beauty of your gift quite overcame me.

Allow me to thank you and express my appreciation of it."

Marian smiled affectedly at the judge's words, in a manner so foreign to her former, blunt, good-natured self, that the girl chums watched her in silent amazement.

But the judge's inkstand was merely the fore-runner of surprises. A sudden cry from Grace attracted the attention of the others.

"Why, Marian Barber, what made you do it?"

Then other exclamations followed in quick succession as the Phi Sigma Taus rushed over to her in a body, each carrying a jeweler's box.

"You shouldn't have been so generous, Marian," said Grace. "I never dreamed of receiving this beautiful gold chain."

"Just look at my bracelet!" cried Jessica.

"And my lovely ring!" put in Nora.