A borrowed sister

“Oh, mother dear, you can’t come in just yet,” Lois said; “we don’t want you to see the tree until it is entirely ready.”

Jessie, having promised that they would do all the work themselves, was carrying out her agreement to the letter, and Mrs. Page, who wanted to help them, had to be contented merely to give advice. There had been many secret sessions in the play-room and in the Morgans’ attic, and Jessie and Lois had taken several trips to the village store. They had just come in from a final one now.

“Your money seems to have held out like the widow’s cruse of oil,” said Mrs. Page.

“Why, yes, mother. We thought we had spent it all, and we wanted to get some more animals, and Reuben gave us twenty cents, and then Joel Carpenter gave us a quarter, and then Reuben did not like to have Joel give more than he did, when Joel wasn’t in the secret to begin with, so Reuben gave ten cents more, and then Joel gave ten, and then Reuben gave another ten. It was as exciting as an auction. Reuben had to borrow of Amyas, and Amyas wouldn’t lend him more than ten cents, so Reuben had to drop out because he was ‘dead broke,’ he said, and Joel came out five cents ahead of him. I think it was too bad, for he wasn’t half so interested in the tree as Reuben was.”

“But it was nice to get the extra five cents,” said Jessie.

Just before the guests came, Mrs. Page slipped into the play-room, unseen by Lois and Jessie, and tied six pairs of mittens, and three red tam-o’-shanters and three blue ones, to the tree. She also decorated the branches with two pink and two scarlet flannel petticoats, and some socks. After this she tied on thirteen costume crackers. Then she quietly slipped out of the room.

The Donnellys were so afraid of being late that they arrived half an hour too early. This was a little inconvenient, for Jessie and Lois were dressing.

Maggie knocked on their door and said, “Your company has come. They are waiting in the entry.”

“Dear me, what shall we do!” said Lois. “Do you mind if they stay in the kitchen, Maggie, until we come down?”

“It would hurt their feelings and make them think they had come too early,” said Jessie. “Aunt Elizabeth,” she called out, “would you mind talking to the Donnellys until we are ready? Please say how ashamed we are to be so late. Perhaps they would like to go down to the laundry and see Minnie and the Trio Club.”

And so it happened that Mrs. Page headed a procession of six Donnellys, all painfully shy and all dressed in their best clothes, and took them down to the temporary dwelling-place of the Trio Club.

The ice was soon broken, for no one could long feel any stiffness in the presence of these engaging animals.

Each Donnelly made a dive for a kitten. George Thomas secured one, Beulah was the happy possessor of a second, while Michael and Evelina chased Presto around the room, and Michael finally got her, much to Evelina’s disappointment. Miriam Donnelly had taken Minnie in her arms, while May Lilian walked around the room, stroking each kitten in turn.

“What is this one’s name?” she asked shyly.

“That is Minnie. That is the mother cat.”

“My! but she looks like a kitten herself!” said May Lilian.

“Yes, she is a small cat.”

“And what is this one’s name?”

“Allegro.”

“What a funny name!”

“I didn’t name her,” said Mrs. Page. “If I had, I should have given her a good sensible name.”

“And what is mine called?” asked George Thomas.

“Andantino.”

“I guess you didn’t name that one either,” said Michael, with a grin.

“We are ready now,” Jessie called down.

The other guests had come, and they were all taken upstairs, and the door of the play-room was flung open.

The Morgans and Jessie and Joel Carpenter had seen other Christmas trees that were more elaborate, while to Lois and the Donnellys, who only knew Sunday-school and school Christmas trees, there was an especial charm about this one because it was their very own. The four Donnelly girls sat in a row on the sofa, with their feet stuck out primly in front of them. They looked very grave, as if it would be quite improper to smile. Miriam, who was the oldest, kept them in excellent order. Michael and George Thomas politely stood until Mrs. Page asked them to be seated.

Jessie and Lois gave a cry of pleasure when they saw the petticoats and tam-o’-shanters. “How perfectly splendid, Aunt Elizabeth!” Jessie said.

The tree was a pretty sight, for it had many candles on it, and the little points of light were very brilliant against the background of green. Everything meant some happy recollection to Lois: the tree reminded her of that beautiful walk in the woods, and the candy-horns made her think of a delightful snowy afternoon in the Morgans’ attic, when she and Jessie and the Morgans sat around the table with paste and scissors and colored paper. She was so awkward, and Anne and Amyas were so kind in helping her! And the candles and the animals! Would she ever forget that trip to the village store, when Amyas came in unexpectedly and made the clerk take ten cents off the whole amount, because they had bought so many things? There was a second trip and a third, and still another, each with some pleasant memory quite distinct from all the rest. And it was dear Jessie who had made it possible. Without her they would not have had a Christmas tree.

The Donnellys were delighted with their presents; even Miriam’s face relaxed when she was given a blue hair ribbon and a pretty handkerchief with an M in one corner. George Thomas was much pleased with a teeter with a yellow chicken on either end. His eyes were glued to this toy. “First it goes down, and then it goes up, and when one chicken is up, the other is down,” said George Thomas.

The costume crackers were a delightful surprise, and Mrs. Page told the children they might dress up in the contents before they had their simple refreshments. George Thomas’s costume cracker contained a pink sun-bonnet, in which he courageously arrayed himself, while Beulah wore a soldier’s cap, and Lois put on a helmet, and Ellen donned a fool’s cap.

“I am sorry we can only have lemonade and Uneeda biscuit and ginger-snaps,” said Lois, as Maggie came in with a tray; “our money did not hold out for everything.”

“It is a pretty good kind of Uneeda biscuit,” said Michael, who had at last found courage to speak. He had just put on a blue and yellow toque, and every one seemed so amused by the effect that he felt that, in spite of Miriam, it was the proper thing to smile.

Some fairy wand seemed to have changed the Uneeda biscuit into Maggie’s delicate orange cake and chocolate cake, and presently, in addition to the lemonade, there came in some raspberry sherbet and macaroon ice-cream.

The children’s eyes shone, and George Thomas finally put down his teeter.

“First it goes up, and then it goes down,” he said dreamily, “and when one chicken is—my! what lovely pink and white ice-cream!”

“You may put your presents on the table,” said Mrs. Page to the Donnellys, “and then you will have room for your plates.”

The four Donnelly girls rose and carried their treasures across the room, and the boys followed their example.

“Nobody must touch my teeter,” said George Thomas.

The presents cost very little, but there were a good many of them, for each Donnelly had a pencil and a block of paper, and the girls had sheets of colored tissue paper, and bags of beads, while each of the smaller children had a toy animal, and the older ones were given games and books that had once belonged to the Morgans.

After the cake and ice-cream had been eaten, there came the great surprise of the evening, for Jessie had a small present ready for each of the Morgans and Joel Carpenter and Lois, as well as another trifle for each Donnelly.

Lois’s was a small, flat parcel tied with a pink ribbon.

“How perfectly lovely!” she said, as she gazed at the contents of the package. “What a beautiful expression she has!”

“Is it a photograph of your mother?” asked Amyas.

“No, it’s my cat. Such a dear picture of Minnie in her basket! I wish I had a picture of the Trio Club, too.”

Then to her joy she discovered that there were two mounted photographs, and lifting the upper one, she saw underneath the three black faces of the Trio Club standing out in bold relief against the light basket. “Oh, the darling things!” she exclaimed. “That is Andantino, I am sure, but I can’t tell Presto and Allegro apart. I wish I could have had a picture of their legs, but you can’t expect everything.”

“My goodness! I should say you couldn’t,” said Amyas. “Jessie got me to take their pictures, and the way they skipped around was a caution. Just as I thought I had them fixed, one would scramble out of the basket and scoot off to its mother. And the mother was a terror. Twice I thought I had got her, when she opened her mouth and yelled. She’s enough to spoil any picture. The next time Jessie asks me to take the photograph of a cat, I am going to break my leg, or go out of town.”

The Morgans and Joel Carpenter went early, as they were going home to their own Christmas trees, and the Donnellys looked at one another irresolutely. Miriam was equally afraid of leaving too soon and staying too late.

“You haven’t got to go yet,” said Jessie. “It is so early.”

“I don’t know as there is any great hurry,” said Miriam.

“Mother said we might stay until half-past seven if you seemed to expect us to,” said George Thomas.

“Well, children, it was a great success,” Mrs. Page said to Jessie and Lois, as the last Donnelly closed the front door behind him, “and certainly no children could have better manners than those Donnellys. You must feel very tired, Jessie dear. Here is a foreign letter for you; it came in the five o’clock mail.”

A Christmas letter from her mother! Jessie gave a little cry of delight as she opened it. There were two foreign postal-cards inside; one was the charming picture of an Angora cat, for Lois, the other, which was for Jessie, was a group of three children standing with their arms around one another.

“It is like you and Ellen and me,” said Lois.

Jessie read her letter through eagerly. She glanced up with an expression of rapturous delight.

“They are coming earlier than I expected them,” she said. “Father is so much better, and has his heart so set on getting home, that the doctor says they may sail in January. Oh, Aunt Elizabeth! It seems too good to be true!”

The tears came into Lois’s eyes. The months had been long as they passed, but as she looked back, it seemed only a short time since that April afternoon when her dear borrowed sister had alighted at the gate, and she had gone so eagerly to meet her, and had found the tears in Jessie’s eyes. Now it was Jessie who was happy and she who was sad. It was just like George Thomas’s teeter.

Jessie saw that Lois was crying. “You darling child, what is the matter?” she asked.

“I am thinking of the time when you will be going away. It has all been so lovely, everything from the very first minute. And it will be over so soon, and you won’t be my sister any more.”

“It isn’t as if I were going far. We shall see each other every day; and you will be coming to spend a night with me every week, and I shall spend a night with you. We shall always be like sisters. If you once have a sister, you can’t lose her,” said Jessie.