done, and put it on a platter; finally, she popped the two mince pies into the oven. Just at this moment Stephen stuck his head in at the hall door.
“Lexy, do you know where that letter of Governor Howland’s to Father is? Uncle James wants to see it.”
Alexina, not waiting to shut the oven door — for delay might impress Uncle James unfavourably — rushed upstairs to get the letter. She was ten minutes finding it. Then, remembering her pies, she flew back to the kitchen. In the middle of the floor she stopped as if transfixed, staring at the table. The turkey was gone. And the plum pudding was gone! And the mince pies were gone! Nothing was left but the platters! For a moment Alexina refused to believe her eyes. Then she saw a trail of greasy drops on the floor to the open door, out over the doorstep, and along the boards of the walk to the back fence.
Alexina did not make a fuss. Even at that horrible moment she remembered the importance of making a favourable impression. But she could not quite keep the alarm and excitement out of her voice as she called Stephen, and Stephen knew that something had gone wrong as he came quickly through the hall. “Is the turkey burned, Lexy?” he cried.
“Burned! No, it’s ten times worse,” gasped Alexina. “It’s gone — gone, Stephen. And the pudding and the mince pies, too. Oh, what shall we do? Who can have taken them?”
It may be stated right here and now that the Falsoms never really knew anything more about the disappearance of their Christmas dinner than they did at that moment. But the only reasonable explanation of the mystery was that a tramp had entered the kitchen and made off with the good things. The Falsom house was right at the end of the street. The narrow backyard opened on a lonely road. Across the road was a stretch of pine woods. There was no house very near except the Tracy one.
Stephen reached this conclusion with a bound. He ran out to the yard gate followed by the distracted Alexina. The only person visible was a man some distance down the road. Stephen leaped over the gate and tore down the road in pursuit of him. Alexina went back to the doorstep, sat down upon it, and began to cry. She couldn’t help it. Her hopes were all in ruins around her. There was no dinner for Uncle James.
Josephine Tracy saw her crying. Now, Josie honestly thought that she had a grievance against Alexina. But an Alexina walking unconcernedly by with a cool little nod and her head held high was a very different person from an Alexina sitting on a back doorstep, on Christmas morning, crying. For a moment Josie hesitated. Then she slowly went out and across the yard to the fence. “What is the trouble?” she asked.
Alexina forgot that there was such a thing as dignity to be kept up; or, if she remembered it, she was past caring for such a trifle. “Our dinner is gone,” she sobbed. “And there is nothing to give Uncle James to eat except vegetables — and I do so want to make a favourable impression!”
This was not particularly lucid, but Josie, with a flying mental leap, arrived at the conclusion that it was very important that Uncle James, whoever he was, should have a dinner, and she knew where one was to be had. But before she could speak Stephen returned, looking rueful. “No use, Lexy. That man was only old Mr. Byers, and he had seen no signs of a tramp. There is a trail of grease right across the road. The tramp must have taken directly to the woods. We’ll simply have to do without our Christmas dinner.”
“By no means,” said Josie quickly, with a little red spot on either cheek. “Our dinner is all ready — turkey, pudding and all. Let us lend it to you. Don’t say a word to your uncle about the accident.”
Alexina flushed and hesitated. “It’s very kind of you,” she stammered, “but I’m afraid — it would be too much—”
“Not a bit of it,” Josie interrupted warmly. “Didn’t Duncan and I have Christmas dinner at your house last year? Just come and help us carry it over.”
“If you lend us your dinner you and Duncan must come and help us eat it,” said Alexina, resolutely.
“I’ll come of course,” said Josie, “and I think that Duncan will too if — if—” She looked at Stephen, the scarlet spots deepening. Stephen coloured too.
“Duncan must come,” he said quietly. “I’ll go and ask him.”
Two minutes later a peculiar procession marched out of the Tracy kitchen door, across the two yards, and into the Falsom house. Josie headed it, carrying a turkey on a platter. Alexina came next with a plum pudding. Stephen and Duncan followed with a hot mince pie apiece. And in a few more minutes Alexina gravely announced to Uncle James that dinner was ready.
The dinner was a pronounced success, marked by much suppressed hilarity among the younger members of the party. Uncle James ate very heartily and seemed to enjoy everything, especially the mince pie.
“This is the best mince pie I have ever sampled,” he told Alexina. “I am glad to know that I have a niece who can make such a mince pie.” Alexina cast an agonized look at Josie, and was on the point of explaining that she wasn’t the maker of the pie. But Josie frowned her into silence.
“I felt so guilty to sit there and take the credit — your credit,” she told Josie afterwards, as they washed up the dishes.
“Nonsense,” said Josie. “It wasn’t as if you couldn’t make mince pies. Your mince pies are better than mine, if it comes to that. It might have spoiled everything if you’d said a word. I must go home now. Won’t you and Stephen come over after your uncle goes, and spend the evening with us? We’ll have a candy pull.”
When Josie and Duncan had gone, Uncle James called his nephew and niece into the parlour, and sat down before them with approving eyes. “I want to have a little talk with you two. I’m sorry I’ve let so many years go by without making your acquaintance, because you seem worth getting acquainted with. Now, what are your plans for the future?”
“I’m going into a lumber mill at Lessing and Alexina is going into the T. Morson store,” said Stephen quietly.
“Tut, tut, no, you’re not. And she’s not. You’re coming to live with me, both of you. If you have a fancy for cutting and carving people up, young man, you must be trained to cut and carve them scientifically, anyhow. As for you, Alexina, Stephen tells me you can sing. Well, there’s a good Conservatory of Music in town. Wouldn’t you rather go there instead of behind a counter?”
“Oh, Uncle James!” exclaimed Alexina with shining eyes. She jumped up, put her arms about Uncle James’ neck and kissed him.
Uncle James said, “Tut, tut,” again, but he liked it.
When Stephen had seen his uncle off on the six o’clock train he returned home and looked at the radiant Alexina.
“Well, you made your favourable impression, all right, didn’t you?” he said gaily. “But we owe it to Josie Tracy. Isn’t she a brick? I suppose you’re going over this evening?”
“Yes, I am. I’m so tired that I feel as if I couldn’t crawl across the yard, but if I can’t you’ll have to carry me. Go I will. I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am about everything, but really the fact that you and Duncan and Josie and I are good friends again seems the best of all. I’m glad that tramp stole the dinner and I hope he enjoyed it. I don’t grudge him one single bite!”
The Josephs’ Christmas
