danced and flickered in the candelabra, evergreen framed every picture
on the walls.

Aunt Judith's quaint sofa and chairs had always been covered with
crimson repp, and the color seemed brighter in the evening light.

The old hand-made rugs looked quaint upon the floor, and the logs in
the grate burned gaily, as if anticipating the arrival of the little
guests.

Of all the fine, quaint things in the room, Aunt Judith was surely the
finest, and the quaintest. Her gown was of old-time print, a white
ground upon which bouquets of pansies, purple and yellow, had been
finely printed. Her black eyes were bright with excitement, and in her
glossy black hair, she had placed an old silver comb.

Her sleeves were elbow length, and she wore long black silk mitts. She
had made her toilette with great care, and she now stood on the hearth
rug, nervously opening and shutting a small folding fan.

The little maid peeped in.

"Please ma'am, I hear 'em comin'," she said.

"Wait 'til they ring, and then answer the bell," said Aunt Judith.

The little maid looked very pretty, and she was delighted to be "in
costume," for the occasion. Her skirt, of heavy cotton, was white,
with wide pink stripes. Her waist was blue with a large white kerchief,
and on her flaxen head was a white cap with a frill that made her rosy