“Sam he wants a harmonicum, and Bobbie he just set his hart on a sled.  I don’t reckon you can get that in your trunk, and ifen you can’t a necktie will have to do.  The other chillern is so small it don’t make no difference what you get for them, any little thing you can pick up will please ’em.  They is all so excited about havin’ presents from New York that they’s plum crazy.  I don’t know what the county would do without you, Miss Claudia.  You is everybody’s friend and everybody is—­”

Claudia put out her hand.  “Oh, that part doesn’t matter.  I’ll take it now.  We’ll have to go.  Are you ready?”

“Not quite.”  Laine, who had finished the letter, handed it to her, then took out a note-book and pencil.  “Are you sure you can remember the things?  Hadn’t I better write them down?”

Claudia shook her head.  “Not a bit of use.  These are the last to get, and then I’m through.  Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Through.”

“Through what?”

“With your Christmas things.  I don’t suppose men have as much to do as women and don’t have to begin so early.  Some people don’t love Christmas.  It’s such a pity.”

“It’s a pity the old Christmas has given way to the new one.  With many it’s a sort of hold-up.  I don’t believe in it.”

Claudia’s arms were folded on the table, and her eyes were gravely looking into his.  “What kind do you believe in?”

Into Laine’s face the color crept slowly, then he laughed.  “I really don’t know.  I only know the present kind is wrong.”

“You know a great many things that are wrong, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid I do.”  With his handkerchief Laine wiped his glasses, put them back, and again tapped the table.  “That is, I know a great many things that aren’t nice to know.”

“Most of us do.  It isn’t difficult to see what isn’t nice in people or things.”  She got up.  “I’m sorry you don’t love Christmas.”

“Why should I love it?  For the men at the office there are checks; for my brother’s widow and children are other checks; for Hope, another.  A man makes a mess of buying presents.  Cigars for men and flowers for women are the two orders telephoned in advance for the few so remembered.  The employees at the clubs, the servants at the house, the—­the associations which do things merely mean more money, and money—­”

“I think I should hate Christmas, too, if it merely meant the writing of checks or the giving of gold.  I wouldn’t want a million if there was no love with it.”  Eyes on her muff, she smoothed it softly.  “That is what Christmas is for.  To take time to remember, and to let people know we do care—­and to make somebody glad.  Let me see.”  On her fingers she enumerated the things desired by Mrs. Prosser.  “Harmonicum, silk stockings, socks, yellow pipe, blue scarf-pin, bracelet (brass or gold), box of paper, sled, and—­”