Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1910-12-23
CUPID MAKES A
CHRISTMAS CALL

w seem quite ike OLD times to
~ have you with us again at
Christmas. 1t seems much
longer than four years since you were
here. but l am sure things will appear
quite as usual to you. We make no
change in our yearly program for
Christmas 1t is really the childrens
day. as it was when you and | first
spent it together. q hesitated when
l went to write how many years ago
1t must be eighteen) But l think IA
Their and mother-and take quite as
much interest in it as grown people do
in the circus-quite for the childrens
sake, of course.
II would ask you to dinner immedi-
ately on your arrival Christmas eve,
but if l dared to suggest the presence
of an outsider there would be hub
bub among the powers that rule the
nursery and-at this season-the en-
tire household. l simply dare not say
anything save that we should like to
have you come at precisely, so that
we may have little chat before the
arrival of our other guests"
And indeed as he walked up the ave-
nue. with his long prairie stride Christ
mas eve he was depressed to find
everything so little changed from the
night four years since, when he had
left New York for the west to make
over his life in n new pattern of work
and usefulness.
Here was the familiar door and the
old bronze doorknob which had once
been on a level with his eyes. And the
old butler, whom the STATIONS had had
for twenty years, opened the door to
him and answered his greeting with a
respectful Good evening, Mr. Burn
side" giving him his Christian name
as if he had called only the evening
before. But the hall was hidden in a
mass of evergreen and holly. and the
electric bulbs glowed in their shades
like huge berries in the greenery. And
here he seemed suddenly a stranger,
coming now on the old Christmas
spirit to which his absence had made
him an alien. 1t bewildered him; it
saddened him.
He entered the front drawing room
and saw the hem of skirt disappear
through the portieres which hung be
tween that and the second drawing
room behind it. Some one was placing
n Christmas wreath in the middle win
dow, a woman'S figure. He did not
know her She turned TO greet him
with an eager, "Why, Burnside, I am
so glad to see you" and grasped his
brown fingers with a warm clasp of a
white hand.
She was not of that girlish fragility
which he had remembered. She was
the elder sister of her old self. but in
the excitement and pleasure of seeing
him her voice and manner were those
of the girl whom he had loved-and lost
-four years before. He smiled at her
sadly. How you have grown he
said.
She arched her eyebrows at him.
And yOu?" she laughed. "Why. you're
as broad and brown as a soldier
shouldn't have known you. You have
changed"
"Have II" lie caught at it eagerly.
She saw the trouble in his eyes.
They'll all be delighted to see you
looking so well"-she avoided it-"so
big and strong"
He saw the picture of himself which
she carried in her memory of him. and
1t panied him. He had thought that
his letters would have told her.
She held the wreath up to him. 81
was pretending to hang it in the win
dow" she confessed. 80 that / should
be the first to see you. And l didn't
know you when you passed"
He smiled again. and they sat down
together. How are they alp
LAS well as ever" she said and be-
gan to tell him of them-how the chill
dren had been growing; how her
mother was aging. And father" she
whispered. sis so deaf You mustn't