would permit.

So, after all, Christmas morning began merrily for them, at least.

The doctor, coming home later from an early visit to the hotel, stopped
outside Patricia's open door. "Merry Christmas, Pat! Got your hands
full?"

Patricia was kneeling on the floor, buttoning Tommy's shoes. "Merry
Christmas, Daddy," she answered, gaily; "I certainly have."

Norma came slowly up to the doctor; she remembered him from last night;
for in all the hurry and confusion of the moment he had found time for a
few comforting words to the frightened, bewildered children. "Have--have
you made Mama better?" she asked, wistfully.

The doctor sat down, taking her on his knee. "What is your mother's
name, dear?"

"Mrs. Howard."

The doctor brushed the child's soft curls; and Patricia, seeing the
gravity of his eyes, caught her breath. "Your mother was resting very
quietly when I left her just now, dear," he said, gently; then he turned
to Archibald. "Did you find that trumpet in your stocking, young man?"

Archibald nodded. "I want my--"

"I found this!" Lydia held up one of Patricia's many dolls. They all
crowded about him, claiming his attention, Totty demanding to be taken