Allan was in such spirits! As frolicsome as a boy, he would not let
us be dull, and so his talk never flagged for a moment. Dot laughed
till the tears ran down his cheeks when Allan kicked over the mending
basket, and finally ordered Martha to take it away. When Carrie
returned from the night school, she found us all gathered round the
fire in peaceful idleness, listening to Allan's stories, with Dot on
the rug, basking in the heat like a youthful salamander.

I think Allan must have followed her up to her room, for just as I
was laying my head on the pillow there was a knock at the door, and
Carrie entered with her candle, fully dressed, and with a dark circle
round her eyes.

She put down the light, so as not to wake Jack, and sat down by my
side with a weary sigh.

"Why did you all set Allan to talk to me?" she began reproachfully.
"Why should I listen to him more than to you or mother? I begin to
see that a man's foes are indeed of his own household."

I bit my lips to keep in a torrent of angry words. I was out of
patience with Carrie, even a saint ought to have common sense, I
thought, and I was so tired and sleepy, and to-morrow was Christmas
Day.

"I could not sleep until I came and told you what I thought about
it," she went on in her serious monotone. I don't think she even
noticed my exasperated silence. "It is of no use for Allan to come
and preach his wordly wisdom to me; we do not measure things by the