As Marstern smoked a cigar before retiring that night, he admitted to himself that it was rather a remarkable court that was about to be held.  He was the only advocate for the claims of each, and finally he proposed to take a seat on the bench and judge between them.  Indeed, before he slept he decided to take that august position at once, and maintain a judicial impartiality while noting his impressions.

Christmas Eve happened to be a cold, clear, star-lit night; and when Marstern drove to Miss Waldo’s door, he asked himself, “Could a fellow ask for anything daintier and finer” than the red-lipped, dark-eyed girl revealed by the hall-lamp as she tripped lightly out, her anxious mamma following her with words of unheeded caution about not taking cold, and coming home early.  He had not traversed the mile which intervened between the residences of the two girls before he almost wished he could continue the drive under the present auspices, and that, as in the old times, he could take toll at every bridge, and encircle his companion with his arm as they bounced over the “thank-’ee mams.”  The frosty air appeared to give keenness and piquancy to Miss Lottie’s wit, and the chime of the bells was not merrier or more musical than her voice.  But when a little later he saw blue-eyed Carrie Mitchell in her furs and hood silhouetted in the window, his old dilemma became as perplexing as ever.  Nevertheless, it was the most delightful uncertainty that he had ever experienced; and he had a presentiment that he had better make the most of it, since it could not last much longer.  Meanwhile, he was hedged about with blessings clearly not in disguise, and he gave utterance to this truth as they drove away.

“Surely there never was so lucky a fellow.  Here I am kept warm and happy by the two finest girls in town.”

“Yes,” said Lottie; “and it’s a shame you can’t sit on both sides of us.”

“I assure you I wish it were possible.  It would double my pleasure.”

“I’m very well content,” remarked Carrie, quietly, “as long as I can keep on the right side of people—­”

“Well, you are not on the right side to-night,” interrupted Lottie.

“Good gracious!” thought Marstern, “she’s next to my heart.  I wonder if that will give her unfair advantage;” but Carrie explained: 

“Of course I was speaking metaphorically.”

“In that aspect of the case it would be a shame to me if any side I have is not right toward those who have so honored me,” he hastened to say.

“Oh, Carrie has all the advantage—­she is next to your heart.”

“Would you like to exchange places?” was the query flashed back by Carrie.

“Oh, no, I’m quite as content as you are.”

“Why, then, since I am more than content—­exultant, indeed—­it appears that we all start from excellent premises to reach a happy conclusion of our Christmas Eve,” cried Marstern.

“Now you are talking shop, Mr. Lawyer—­Premises and Conclusions, indeed!” said Lottie; “since you are such a happy sandwich, you must be a tongue sandwich, and be very entertaining.”