Little Miss Pumfret glared at Dorothy.  Then she stepped back and sank down on the hall seat.  “Well,” she exclaimed finally, “I’m an old-fashioned woman.  Never was used to youngsters’ interference, but I like your cheek (this was said with evident sincerity and no idea of being frivolous).  I’ve just a good mind—­”

“Oh, do, do, Miss Pumfret!  Come with me to-morrow and tell him you will sell Tanglewood Park and—­fix it all up—­”

“How you do race on!  But it’s getting late.  Perhaps—­”

“I’ll meet you at the ten o’clock train,” went on Dorothy, while even Major Dale was forced to smile at her impetuosity.  “I have so many places to go, but I am going to the hospital first.”

Miss Pumfret put out her hand—­it shook visibly.

“Little girl,” she said, “you are right.  You have said it all for me.  Come to-morrow and say it all over again to—­Nick.”

Tears fell down the old pinched cheeks, but Dorothy kissed them away.  She had found the path to Jane Pumfret’s affection—­it was cheek, just plain cheek, sometimes called courage.

Yes, it was late, but Dorothy still had Tavia to console—­if only she could insist upon Tavia spending Christmas at The Cedars—­Dorothy had unlimited faith in the magic of the day before Christmas.  Nat called to her as she started up to Tavia’s room.

“I say, Doro, maybe I—­could help.  I’d like to tell her it’s all right.  I was mean about it.  You know, Tavia and I went—­in it—­together.”

“Oh,” replied Dorothy vaguely, “I really don’t know what you mean.”

Nat saw that he was about to betray a secret.  He thought, naturally, that Tavia had confided fully in Dorothy.

“Oh, I just meant,” he stammered, “that if I can say anything to make Tavia feel—­more at home, you know—­don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Tavia was at the head of the stairs looking straight at him.

“Thanks!” she spoke up, all the tears evidently gone.  “But if it’s all the same to both of you, I would prefer that you keep your pretty saying for Christmas.  I’m just dead tired, and fully expect to be asleep in exactly ten minutes.”

Dorothy saw that the sudden burst of gloom had been overcome, and knew that Tavia would actually be as good as her word and asleep in ten minutes.

“Good-night, then,” called Nat, “and don’t forget that to-morrow is the day before Christmas.”

“Good-night,” added Dorothy, “and don’t forget you are to attend to everything to-morrow while I am in the city.  See what it is to be on a charity committee!  I’ll have to have a substitute help with all the most important things—­there’s heaps to be done yet.”

“Good—­nig-h-t!” drawled Tavia with a forced yawn.  “I am not sure that I will wake up until the day after Christmas.”

“To bed!  To bed, every one!” called Mrs. White, and then both troubles and pleasant anticipations for a happy ending to the queer holiday became hopelessly tangled in the dreams of the young folks at The Cedars.