wine had no further relish.  I was haunted by the vision at the window, and began, with an unreasonable irritation at the interruption, to repeat with fresh warmth my detestation of holidays.  One couldn’t even dine alone on a holiday with any sort of comfort, I declared.  On holidays one was tormented by too much pleasure on one side, and too much misery on the other.  And then, I said, hunting for justification of my dislike of the day, ’How many other people are, like me, made miserable by seeing the fullness of enjoyment others possess!’

“Oh, yes, I know,” sarcastically replied the bachelor to a comment of mine; “of course, all magnanimous, generous, and noble-souled people delight in seeing other people made happy, and are quite content to accept this vicarious felicity.  But I, you see, and this dear little girl—­”

“Dear little girl?”

“Oh, I forgot,” said Bachelor Bluff, blushing a little, in spite of a desperate effort not to do so.  “I didn’t tell you.  Well, it was so absurd!  I kept thinking, thinking of the pale, haggard, lonely little girl on the cold and desolate side of the window-pane, and the over-fed, discontented, lonely old bachelor on the splendid side of the window-pane, and I didn’t get much happier thinking about it, I can assure you.  I drank glass after glass of the wine—­not that I enjoyed its flavour any more, but mechanically, as it were, and with a sort of hope thereby to drown unpleasant reminders.  I tried to attribute my annoyance in the matter to holidays, and so denounced them more vehemently than ever.  I rose once in a while and went to the window, but could see no one to whom the pale face could have belonged.

“At last, in no very amiable mood, I got up, put on my wrappers, and went out; and the first thing I did was to run against a small figure crouching in the doorway.  A face looked up quickly at the rough encounter, and I saw the pale features of the window-pane.  I was very irritated and angry, and spoke harshly; and then, all at once, I am sure I don’t know how it happened, but it flashed upon me that I, of all men, had no right to utter a harsh word to one oppressed with so wretched a Christmas as this poor creature was.  I couldn’t say another word, but began feeling in my pocket for some money, and then I asked a question or two, and then I don’t quite know how it came about—­isn’t it very warm here?” exclaimed Bachelor Bluff, rising and walking about, and wiping the perspiration from his brow.

“Well, you see,” he resumed nervously, “it was very absurd, but I did believe the girl’s story—­the old story, you know, of privation and suffering, and just thought I’d go home with the brat and see if what she said was all true.  And then I remembered that all the shops were closed, and not a purchase could be made.  I went back and persuaded the steward to put up for me a hamper of provisions, which the half-wild little youngster helped me carry through the snow, dancing with delight all the way.  And isn’t this enough?”