of poor health. Nothing in all this to keep Christmas on, thought
Letty, and she knitted and crocheted and sewed with extra ardor that
the twins' stockings might be filled with bright things of her own
making.




[Illustration]

VI


On the afternoon before Christmas of that year, the North Station in
Boston was filled with hurrying throngs on the way home for the
holidays. Everybody looked tired and excited, but most of them had
happy faces, and men and women alike had as many bundles as they could
carry; bundles and boxes quite unlike the brown paper ones with which
commuters are laden on ordinary days. These were white packages,
beribboned and beflowered and behollied and bemistletoed, to be gently
carried and protected from crushing.

The train was filled to overflowing and many stood in the aisles until
Latham Junction was reached and the overflow alighted to change cars
for Greentown and way stations.

Among the crowd were two men with suit-cases who hurried into the way
train and, entering the smoking car from opposite ends, met in the
middle of the aisle, dropped their encumbrances, stretched out a hand
and ejaculated in the same breath: