Granny and Maida were still talking about Rosie’s happiness when Billy Potter suddenly came marching through the shop and into the living-room.

“Merry Christmas!  Merry Christmas!  Merry Christmas!” they all said at once.

“Granny,” Billy asked immediately, “if you could have your choice of all the Christmas gifts in the world, which one would you choose?”

An expression of bewilderment came into Granny’s bright blue eyes.

“A Christmas gift, Misther Billy,” she said in an uncertain tone; “I cudn’t t’ink of a t’ing as long as Oi can’t have me little Annie wid me.”

Maida saw Billy’s eyes snap and sparkle at the word Annie.  She wondered what—­Could it be possible that—­She began to tremble.

“And so you’d choose your daughter, Granny?” Billy questioned.

“Choose my daughter.  Av coorse Oi wud!” Granny stopped to stare in astonishment at Billy.  “Oh, Misther Billy, if you cud only foind her!” She gazed imploringly at him.  Billy continued to smile at her, his eyes all “skrinkled up.”  Granny jumped to her feet.  She seized Billy’s arm.  “Oh, Misther Billy, you have found her,” she quavered.

Billy nodded.  “I’ve found her, Granny!  I told you I would and I have.  Now don’t get excited.  She’s all right and you’re all right and everything’s all right.  She’ll be here just as soon as you’re ready to see her.”

For a moment Maida was afraid Granny was going to faint, for she dropped back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears.  But at Billy’s last words the old fire came back to her eyes, the color to her cheeks.  “Oi want to see her at wance,” she said with spirit.

“Listen,” Billy said.  “Last night I happened to fall into conversation with a young Irishman who had come to read the gas-meter in my house.  I asked him where he came from.  He said, ‘Aldigarey, County Sligo.’  I asked him if he knew Annie Flynn.  ‘Sure, didn’t she marry my cousin?  She lives—­’ Well, the short of it is that I went right over to see her, though it was late then.  I found her a widow with two children.  She nearly went crazy at the prospect of seeing her mother again, but we agreed that we must wait until morning.  We planned—­oh, come in, Annie,” he called suddenly.

At his call, the shop door opened and shut.  There was a rush of two pairs of feet through the shop.  In the doorway appeared a young woman carrying a baby.  Behind her came a little boy on crutches.  Granny stood like a marble statue, staring.  But Maida screamed.

Who do you suppose they were?

They were Mrs. Dore and Delia and Dicky.

“Oh, my mother!” Mrs. Dore said.

“My little Annie—­my little girl,” Granny murmured.  The tears began to stream down her cheeks.

Followed kissings and huggings by the dozen.  Followed questions and answers by the score.