"I thought it would be fun," she said, shyly, "to have supper in my room. I have a big box from home. I couldn't possibly eat all the things myself, and if you'll bring chafing-dishes and spoons, and those things, I'll cook it, and we can sit round my open fire."
Miss Thrasher's room was homelike, with its fire of white-birch and its easy chairs, and Miss Thrasher herself proved to be a pleasant hostess.
After supper Miss Hyle told a tale of India, Miss Thrasher gave a Rocky mountain adventure, and the girls contributed ghost and burglar stories till each guest was in a thrill of delightful horror.
"I expected to die of homesickness, but it's been jolly!"
"So did I, but I have actually been happy."
Thus the girls commented as they started for bed.
"I have enjoyed my day," said little Miss Thrasher, "very much."
"Yes, indeed, it's been a merry Christmas." Miss Hyle spoke almost eagerly.
Betty gave a little jump; she realized each one of them was holding her hand and pressing it a little. "Thank you, it's been a lovely evening. Goodnight."
Rosamond had invited Betty to share her room-mate's bed, but both girls were too tired and sleepy for any confidence.
"It's been the queerest Christmas!" thought Betty, as she drifted toward sleep. "Why, I haven't given one single soul one single present!"
Yet she smiled, drowsily happy, and then the room seemed to fill with a bright, warm light, and round the bed there danced a great Christmas wreath, made up of the faces of the three O'Neills, and the thin old rector, with his white hair, and pretty Rosamond, and frightened Miss Thrasher and the homesick girls, and lonely Miss Hyle, and tear-dimmed Hilma.
And all the faces smiled and nodded, and called, "Merry Christmas, Betty, Merry Christmas!"
[M] This story was first published in the _Youth's Companion_, vol. 82.
THE custom of Christmas-trees came from Germany. I can remember when they were first introduced into England, and what wonderful things we thought them. Now, every village school has its tree, and the scholars openly discuss whether the presents have been 'good,' or 'mean,' as compared with other trees in former years. The first one that I ever saw I believed to have come from Good Father Christmas himself; but little boys have grown too wise now to be taken in for their own amusement. They are not excited by secret and mysterious preparations in the back drawing-room; they hardly confess to the thrill--which I feel to this day--when the folding doors are thrown open, and amid the blaze of tapers, mamma, like a Fate, advances with her scissors to give every one what falls to his lot.