K. saw Sidney for only a moment on Christmas Day. This was when the gay
little sleigh had stopped in front of the house.

Sidney had hurried radiantly in for a moment. Christine's parlor was gay
with firelight and noisy with chatter and with the clatter of her tea-cups.

K., lounging indolently in front of the fire, had turned to see Sidney in
the doorway, and leaped to his feet.

"I can't come in," she cried. "I am only here for a moment. I am out
sleigh-riding with Dr. Wilson. It's perfectly delightful."

"Ask him in for a cup of tea," Christine called out. "Here's Aunt Harriet
and mother and even Palmer!"

Christine had aged during the last weeks, but she was putting up a brave
front.

"I'll ask him."

Sidney ran to the front door and called: "Will you come in for a cup of
tea?"

"Tea! Good Heavens, no. Hurry."

As Sidney turned back into the house, she met Palmer. He had come out in
the hall, and had closed the door into the parlor behind him. His arm was
still in splints, and swung suspended in a gay silk sling.

The sound of laughter came through the door faintly.

"How is he to-day?" He meant Johnny, of course. The boy's face was always
with him.

"Better in some ways, but of course--"