Quincy spent that night at his father’s house.  The next morning his mother told him that the author had selected Christmas day on which to be received by them at dinner, and that she was making unusual preparations for that event.

“I wish I could invite a few friends to meet her that day,” said Quincy.

“You may invite as many as you choose, Quincy, if you will promise to be here yourself.  You have been away from home so much the past year I hardly anticipate the pleasure of your company on that day.”

“Have no fear, mother,” Quincy said.  “I wish very much to meet the author that father and you are so greatly pleased with.  Of course Aunt Ella is coming?”

“Certainly,” answered his mother.  “I understand that the author has been stopping with her since the reception.”

“I shall invite five friends,” said Quincy, “and you may depend upon me.”

To his mother’s surprise he gave her a slight embrace, a light kiss upon her cheek, and was gone.

The sun showed its cheerful face on Christmas morning.  The snow that fell a fortnight previous had been washed away by continued heavy rains.  A cold wind, biting, but healthful, quickened the pulse and brought roses to the cheeks of holiday pedestrians.

The programme for the meals on Christmas day had been arranged by Mrs. Sawyer as follows:  Breakfast at nine, dinner at one, and a light supper at six.  It had always been the rule in the Sawyer family to exchange Christmas gifts at the breakfast hour.  Quincy was present, and his father, mother, and sisters thanked him for the valuable presents that bore his card.  Father, mother, and sisters, on their part, had not forgotten Quincy, and the reunited family had the most enjoyable time that they had experienced for a year.

As Quincy rose to leave the table, he said to his mother, “I have another gift for father and you, but it has not yet arrived.  I am going to see about it this morning.”

“You will be sure to come to dinner, Quincy,” fell from his mother’s lips.

“I promise you, mother,” he replied.  “I would not miss it for anything.”

A little after noontime, the Chessman carriage arrived at the Beacon Street mansion of the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer, and a moment later Mrs. Ella Chessman and the young author, Bruce Douglas, were ushered into the spacious and elegant parlor.  They were received by Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer and their daughter Florence.

Twenty minutes later a carriage arrived before the same mansion.  Its occupants were Sir Stuart Fernborough, his granddaughter, and Mdme. Archimbault.  A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Leopold Ernst appeared, having walked the short distance from their rooms on Chestnut Street.  The new arrivals were presented to Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer by Mrs. Chessman, and a pleasant ante-prandial conversation was soon under way.