"Really, Alan? What fun!"
"Isn't it?" And they exchanged significant smiles.
"Where's Jean, these days?" inquired Alan, a few minutes later, as
he settled himself on the sofa, with his shoes on the pillow. "I
haven't seen her for a coon's age."
"Poor Jean!" said Polly. "She's having a hard time. Ever since her
father had that fall, two weeks ago, Mrs. Dwight has been busy
with taking care of him, and Jean has had to do all the work, and
see to those four boys, besides."
"That's hard luck," said Alan sympathetically.
"I did feel so sorry for her, the other day," said Jessie, moving
into the sofa corner to let Alan rest his yellow head in her lap.
"I asked her what she was going to do Christmas, and she said,
'Nothing at all.' She laughed; she always does that, but she
looked as sober as could be, and it did sound so forlorn."
There was a silence throughout the group for a moment.
"I say!" exclaimed Alan so suddenly that Jessie, who was bending
over to part his hair into little squares, started violently.
"Well?" inquired Molly, who was tranquilly rocking back and forth
by the window.
"I say, girls, let's give her a Christmas surprise." "Good, Alan!"
And Jessie sprang up in an excited fashion that nearly dislocated
the boy's neck.
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