They were running downstairs as mamma spoke, and Effie called out
breathlessly,--

"It won't be a surprise; for I know you are going to ask some poor
children here, and have a tree or something. It won't be like my dream;
for they had ever so many trees, and more children than we can find
anywhere."

"There will be no tree, no party, no dinner, in this house at all, and no
presents for you. Won't that be a surprise?" And mamma laughed at Effie's
bewildered face.

"Do it. I shall like it, I think; and I won't ask any questions, so it
will all burst upon me when the time comes," she said; and she ate her
breakfast thoughtfully, for this really would be a new sort of Christmas.

All that morning Effie trotted after Nursey in and out of shops, buying
dozens of barking dogs, woolly lambs, and squeaking birds; tiny tea-sets,
gay picture-books, mittens and hoods, dolls and candy. Parcel after parcel
was sent home; but when Effie returned she saw no trace of them, though
she peeped everywhere. Nursey chuckled, but wouldn't give a hint, and went
out again in the afternoon with a long list of more things to buy; while
Effie wandered forlornly about the house, missing the usual merry stir
that went before the Christmas dinner and the evening fun.

As for mamma, she was quite invisible all day, and came in at night so
tired that she could only lie on the sofa to rest, smiling as if some very
pleasant thought made her happy in spite of weariness.