Betty's Happy Year

“Why, certainly, my dear; I’ll help you with pleasure. What do you want to buy?”

“I want a small diamond brooch, please, and not too grand a one; my mother doesn’t like things too grand. But a plainish one that she could wear every day, and yet a good one at that.”

Mrs. Sanderson smiled, but she seemed to understand, and as the affable salesman showed them various styles, she selected one that seemed to fit accurately Betty’s requirements.

“This, I think, is lovely,” she said; “I’m sure your mother would like it.”

“I’m sure, too,” said Betty, “and it’s the very one I like best myself.”

The purchase was completed, and, with the little box in her hand, Betty took Mrs. Sanderson to the next counter to meet her mother. The ladies seemed too pleased to know each other, and Betty was very happy.

Then good-by greetings were exchanged and, as it was luncheon-hour, Betty’s mother marshaled her brood together.

“I think we won’t go back to the hotel for luncheon,” she said; “for it’s after one o’clock, and we still have some errands to do. So we’ll go over to the Waldorf and lunch there, which will give you hotel-loving children another glimpse of a New York Christmas crowd.”

This plan was carried out, and the young quartet watched with sparkling eyes the throngs of people on Christmas errands bent.

“Now to finish our errands, and then home,” said Mrs. McGuire, after luncheon was over.

But when they reached the hotel again, about mid-afternoon, Betty didn’t want to go in.

“Oh, Mother,” she pleaded, “the streets are so gay, and the people are all going along with bundles and holly wreaths, and it’s all so Christmas-evey, can’t we stay out longer?”

Her mother considered.

“I must go in,” she said, “and I want Lisette to help me. But, if you wish, you four may go for a ride in the Park or along the Avenue. But you must promise not to get out of the cab. The chauffeur is entirely reliable, and if you stay in the cab, you cannot get lost. Be back here in one hour, please.”

“We will,” chorused the four, so Mrs. McGuire and Lisette went into the hotel, and the four delighted young folk went for a further ride.

Their course down the Avenue was slow, owing to the crowded traffic; they had ample opportunity for observing the people, an amusement of which Betty never tired. Then afterwards a short spin in the Park, where the lights had already begun to gleam through the early winter dusk.

“Now for home,” said Jack decisively, when the hour had elapsed; and back they went to their hotel.

But when they entered their own sitting-room, nobody was there, – no tree, no presents, and no sign of any human being.

Betty opened the door of her mother’s bedroom, but that, too, was unoccupied, as, indeed, were all the bedrooms.

Betty looked frightened, and said, in a half-whisper: “Oh, do you suppose anything has happened to Mother?”

Then Jack laughed outright.

“Oh, Betty,” he said; “can’t you guess? I’ll wager Mother and Lisette are in the dining-room, and they’re fixing the tree in there!”

Sure enough, the dining-room door was closed, and when Betty flew to open it, she found it was locked as well.

“Let us in, Mother; let us in!” she cried.

“Not yet, my child,” said Mrs. McGuire, opening the door a tiny crack and peeping out. “You must all amuse yourselves till dinner-time.”

“Oh, can’t we help fix it?” said Jack.

“No; I’ve plenty of help in here, and you must keep out and not bother.”

Then the door was shut and locked again, and the young folks laughed to find themselves with occupation gone.

“All right; let’s get up a surprise for her,” said Betty.

“Oh, yes!” cried Jack; “just the thing! What’ll it be?”

“Wait. I’ll have to think. Oh, I’ll tell you, Jack; you go down to the flower place, and get a lot of white carnations – just heaps of ’em. And then get a lot of holly, and bring ’em all up, and I’ll show you. Oh, wait – get the biggest holly wreath you can find, and a paper of pins!”

Obediently Jack went off, and as the big hotel was able to supply such demands, he brought back everything Betty asked for.

“It won’t be much,” said Betty, as she tied a big towel over her pretty frock for an apron. “Come in my room, all of you, so she won’t see it if she comes out.”

The other three followed Betty, and she disclosed her plan. First she filled the center of the big wreath with white carnations, having first crisscrossed it closely with string, to keep the blossoms in place. Then she set the others to work picking off the red berries from the bunch of holly Jack had brought, sticking a pin through each. With these prepared berries Betty formed letters on the white background, and as she deftly did her task they saw the words grow under her fingers, “Merry Christmas to Mother.”

“Fine!” cried Stub. “Betty, you’re a real genius! I declare it’s the prettiest wreath I ever saw!”

It was pretty, for the holly wreath framed the loving greeting spelled out on the white carnations, and Betty’s true eye had spaced the letters admirably.

It was not quite finished when Mrs. McGuire emerged from the dining-room. But Betty hastily stuck in the remaining pins with their red berry heads, and Jack asked Mrs. McGuire not to peep into Betty’s room.

“Indeed, I won’t,” was the reply. “I’ve only time to dress for dinner, and you young people had better scamper if you want to have any evening left for your tree.”

Scamper they did, and soon a very hungry but jolly party made its way down to the dining-room.

The girls were in festival dress because it was Christmas eve. Their white frocks of filmy mousseline were cut out a little at the throat, and red sashes and hair-ribbons gave an air of Christmas to their costumes. Each wore a holly spray in her hair, and Jack declared himself proud of the visions of loveliness that graced his party.

But notwithstanding the jolly time they were having, and the excitement of it all, there was no lingering after dinner.

Though the girls would have liked to stay down-stairs and listen to the music and watch the people, yet the tree seemed to call loudly to them even through the closed door. So up they went, Betty’s little face fairly aglow with the happiness of her first real Christmas. She held her mother’s hand tightly as, at last, Lisette threw open the door of the dining-room, and they all went in.

The tree was a marvel. Stalwart porters of the hotel had set it in place, and had assisted Mrs. McGuire to decorate it. It shimmered and glittered with tinsel ropes; it sparkled with shining ornaments; it trembled with tiny lighted candles, and it fairly blazed with hundreds of tiny electric lights of all colors. This was one of Mrs. McGuire’s surprises. Even the Grahams had never seen a Christmas tree electrically lighted, and as for Stub – he fairly whistled in ecstasy.

“Oh, what a corker!” he exclaimed, for more grammatical language seemed inadequate.

Betty drew closer to her mother’s side and slipped her arm around her waist, as she stood speechless before the beautiful tree.

“For me!” she exclaimed, her eyes as bright as the electrics themselves.

“Yes,” said her mother, bending to kiss the top of her child’s head. “And for Jack,” she added, holding out her other hand to the boy, who came, a bit shyly, to her embrace.

“And for all of us,” shouted Stub gaily; “you can’t leave us out, Mrs. McGuire, and though my small sister seems for the moment to be speechless, yet I can assure you she thinks it’s a very nice tree.”

“Very nice tree!” cried Agnes; “it’s the gorgeousest, wonderfulest tree that ever was on the face of the earth! I know it is!”

After they had admired it over and over, Mrs. McGuire proposed that they take off the gifts, assuring them that such a proceeding would not mar the effect of the tree.