“Just this year,” he explained, “I’ve found out why I’ve never cared for Christmas.  It’s a beastly day to me.  I spend it as I should Sunday—­get through with it somehow.  At last I go out to dinner somewhere in the evening, and so end the day.”

“We all go to church on Christmas morning,” Ruth told him.  “That’s a lovely way to spend part of the morning, I think.  It gives you the real Christmas feeling.  Don’t you ever do it?”

He shook his head.  “Never have; but I will to-morrow if you’ll tell me where you go.”

“To St. Luke’s.  The service is so beautiful, and we all have been there since we were old enough to go.  I’m sure you’ll like it.  Wouldn’t your grandfather like to go with you?”

Richard stared at her.  “Why, I shouldn’t have thought of it.  Possibly he would.  We never go anywhere together, to tell the truth.”

“That’s queer, when you’re both so lonely.  He must be lonely, too, mustn’t he?”

“I never thought about it,” said the young man.  “I suppose he is.  He never says so.”

“You never say so either, do you?” suggested the girl naively.

The two looked at each other for a minute without speaking.

“Miss Ruth,” said her companion at length, lowering his eyes to the floor and speaking thoughtfully, “I believe, to tell the truth, I’m a selfish beast.  You’ve put a totally new idea into my head—­more shame to me that it should be new.  It strikes me that I’ll try a new way of spending Christmas; I’ll see to it that whoever is lonely grandfather isn’t—­if I can keep him from it.”

“You can!” cried Ruth, beaming at him.  “He thinks the world of you; anybody can see that.  And you won’t be lonely yourself!”

“Won’t I?  I’m not so sure of that—­after to-night.  But I admit it’s worth trying.  May I report to you how it works?” he asked, smiling.

Ruth agreed delightedly, and, when they separated, watched with interest to see that the new idea had already begun to work, as indicated by the way the younger Kendrick approached the elder, who was making his farewells.

“Going now, grandfather?” said he, with his hand on old Matthew Kendrick’s arm.  “We’ll go together.  I’ll call James.”

“You going too, Dick?” inquired his grandfather, evidently surprised.  “That’s good.”

As he took leave of Roberta, Richard found opportunity to exchange with her ever so brief a conversation.  “This has been quite a wonderful experience to me, Miss Gray,” said he.  “I shall not forget it.”

Her eyes searched his for an instant, but found there only sincerity.  “You have done your part better than could have been expected,” she admitted.

“What grudging commendation!  What should you have expected?  That I should sulk in a corner because I couldn’t have things all my own way?”

She coloured richly, and he rejoiced at having put her in confusion for an instant.  “Of course not.  But every one wouldn’t have eyes to see the beauties of a family party where all the fun wasn’t for the young people.”