Grandfathers Love Pie | Page 3

know just how much
we may hope for--or how little." Her voice faltered, but she continued,

"I could not listen a few days ago when you suggested that Dr. Helm
was not able to relieve him, but tell me all now."
Perhaps it was because the kind physician felt sorry for the sorrowing
daughter, or perhaps it was because, personally, he cherished a deep
affection for the scholarly old gentleman on whom he was expending
his most earnest efforts, but whatever the reason, he told her in the
gentlest, kindest manner, enough to make her understand that the
chances were against her father's recovery. His concluding remarks,
however, were reassuring. "Please do not understand for a moment,
Miss Gordon, that I have given up hope. I do not agree altogether with
Dr. Helm, and I feel that we have good ground for expecting favorable
results from the treatment that we have recently begun."
After hearing the news, Alice returned home, to find a letter in which
was a small check from one of the loving family circle, to be spent in a
Christmas present for the dear sick one.
It had come to be a sort of habit in the family for a few of the far-away
members to send little sums to Alice at Christmas time, in order that the
presents should be such as would give service as well as pleasure.
The carrying out of these commissions had always been a source of
delight to both big and little Alice, for did they not know best of all the
individual needs and hopes of each member of the household? Who,
then, could so well plan and shop for the merry Christmas, which was
always a success in the Gordon household?
Yes, a merry, happy season it had always been for, while all the
comforts of a refined home had ever been theirs, the provision of these
comforts had required constant economy and management on the part
of the busy little "wifey" of the house. As the former children had
grown up and flitted away from the home nest to establish families for
themselves, they had gradually come to realize that it was because of
not having so many things that they were enabled to get such a degree
of pleasure from those gifts which just fitted the need, or perhaps those
gifts, for which the ordinary craving might be counted an extravagance.

It had always been the custom for each one of the family to hang up his
or her stocking, and when the grandchildren began to appear upon the
scene, grandfather's big sock always held a conspicuous place among
the stockings of all sizes.
It was the remembrance of all these established customs that had
caused the entire breakdown of Alice's walls of self-control (which she
thought had been so well built), and when little Alsie found her there,
alone in her chamber, in such deep distress, it was not surprising that
the little maid was frightened.
This was the first time that Alice had ever confided to the child
anything that was, even, in a remote degree, depressing, but her heart
was so overwrought that she had poured out the whole sad story to the
little girl before time could be taken for consideration of the wisdom of
such a course. A flicker of doubt, however, came to her as she saw the
troubled look of the child deepen into an expression of pain and
perplexity, and she continued, half apologetically,
"I ought not to feel so discouraged, dearie, I know. I ought to be brave,
but when I tried to think what I could get for dear father with the
checks that will surely be coming in to me, within the next two or three
weeks, I felt so utterly broken-hearted that I could do nothing but cry."
The child put her arms tenderly around the neck of her beloved aunt,
and gave her message of sympathy in mute kisses.
"I am completely at a loss to know what to do," said Alice, with
emphasis. "Here is Christmas, only a month distant--I have made no
preparation, for I have had no heart for it; we can not hang up the
stockings after the usual merry fashion, for it would be only a farce; we
should cry instead of laugh when we see them, so I feel almost
desperate to know what to do. O, Alsie, can't we think of some plan by
which we may give dear grandfather a merry Christmas, especially if it
is to be his last with us?"
"Auntee, I'll think of something--I promise you I will--and it will be
soon, too--perhaps by to-morrow--but anyhow by the day after, so trust
to me and let us both hope that grandfather will get better."

"I will,