ice cream and sliced cake, Margaret was toasted in cold sweet
lemonade; and drawing close together to "harmonize" more perfectly,
the circle about her touched their glasses while they sang, "For she's
a jolly good fellow." Later, when the little supper was almost over,
Ethel Elliot, leaning over to lay her hand on Margaret's, began in her
rich contralto:--

" When other lips and other hearts..."

and as they all went seriously through the two verses, they stood up,
one by one, and linked arms; the little circle, affectionate and
admiring, that had bounded Margaret's friendships until now.

Then Christmas came, with a dark, freezing walk to the pine-spiced and
candle-lighted early service in the little church, and a quicker walk
home, chilled and happy and hungry, to a riotous Christmas breakfast,
and a littered breakfast table. The new year came, with a dance and
revel, and the Pagets took one of their long tramps through the snowy
afternoon, and came back hungry for a big dinner. Then there was
dressmaking,--Mrs. Schmidt in command, Mrs. Paget tireless at the
machine, Julie all eager interest. Margaret, patiently standing to be
fitted, conscious of the icy, wet touch of Mrs. Schmidt's red fingers
on her bare arms, dreamily acquiescent as to buttons or hooks, was
totally absent in spirit.

A trunk came, Mr. Paget very anxious that the keys should not be
"fooled with" by the children. Margaret's mother packed this trunk
scientifically. "No, now the shoes, Mark--now that heavy skirt," she
would say. "Run get mother some more tissue paper, Beck. You'll have
to leave the big cape, dear, and you can send for it if you need it.