used to orphans, he says, and he would miss not seeing them
about. I think the truth is that he is feeling so miserable over
his wrecked engagement that he is afraid to be alone. He needs
something to occupy every waking moment out of banking hours.
And goodness knows we're glad enough to keep him! He has been
wonderful with those youngsters, and they need a man's influence.

But what on earth to do with the man? As you discovered last
summer, this spacious chateau does not contain a superabundance
of guest rooms. He has finally fitted himself into the doctor's
laboratory, and the medicines have moved themselves to a closet
down the hall. He and the doctor fixed it up between them, and
if they are willing to be mutually inconvenienced, I have no
fault to find.

Mercy! I've just looked at the calendar, and it's the
eighteenth, with Christmas only a week away. However shall we
finish all our plans in a week? The chicks are making
presents for one another, and something like a thousand
secrets have been whispered in my ear.

Snow last night. The boys have spent the morning in the
woods, gathering evergreens and drawing them home on sleds; and
twenty girls are spending the afternoon in the laundry, winding
wreaths for the windows. I don't know how we are going to do our
washing this week. We were planning to keep the Christmas tree a
secret, but fully fifty children have been boosted up to the
carriage house window to take a peep at it, and I am afraid the
news has spread among the remaining fifty.