Lydia began to breathe quickly.  The Dudleys could not afford a special Christmas dinner.

“I—­I don’t know how I could pay you, Bill—­”

“Who wants pay?” asked Bill, indignantly.

“I dasn’t take anything without paying for it,” returned Lydia, her eyes still on the ducks.  “But I’d—­I’d rather have those than a ship.”

Billy’s clear gaze wandered from Lydia’s thin little face to her patched mittens and back again.

“Won’t your father let you?” he asked.

“I won’t let myself,” replied the little girl.

“Oh!” said Billy, his gray eyes deepening.  “Well, let me have the evergreens and you go back for some more.  It’ll save me getting Ma hers.”

With one thrust of her foot Lydia shoved the fragrant pile of boughs into the snow.  She tied the brace of duck to the sled and started back toward the wood, then paused and looked back at Billy.

“Thank you a hundred times,” she called.

“It was a business deal.  No thanks needed,” he replied.

Lydia nodded and trudged off.  The boy stood for a moment looking at the little figure, then he started after her.

“Lydia, I’ll get that load of pines for you.”

She tossed a vivid smile over her shoulder.  “You will not.  It’s a business deal.”

And Billy turned back reluctantly toward the barn.

In an hour Lydia was panting up the steps into the kitchen.  Lizzie’s joy was even more extreme than Lydia’s.  She thawed the ducks out and dressed them, after dinner, with the two children standing so close as at times seriously to impede progress.

“I’m lucky,” said Lydia.  “There isn’t anybody luckier than I am or has better things happen to ’em than I do.  I’d rather be me than a water baby.”

“Baby not a water baby.  Baby a duck,” commented Patience, her hands full of bright feathers.

“Baby is a duck,” laughed Lydia.  “Won’t Daddy be glad!”

Amos was glad.  Plodding sadly home, he was greeted by three glowing faces in the open door as soon as his foot sounded on the porch.  The base burner in the living-room was clear and glowing.  The dining-room was fragrant with pine.  He was not allowed to take off his overcoat, but was towed to the kitchen where the two birds, trussed and stuffed for the baking, were set forth on the table.

“I got ’em!” shouted Lydia.  “I got ’em off Billy Norton for a load of pine.  Christmas present for you, Daddy, from yours truly, Lydia!” She seized the baby’s hands and the two did a dance round Amos, shouting, “Christmas present!  Christmas present!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well!  Well!” exclaimed Amos.  “Isn’t that fine!  If Levine comes out to-morrow we can ask him to dinner, after all.  Can’t we, Lizzie?”

“You bet we can!” said Lizzie.  “And look at this.  I was going to keep it for a surprise.  I made it by your wife’s recipe.”