CHAPTER TEN
_In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Manreceives an unexpected Invitation._
The Candy Man, letting himself in at his lodging house, one gloomySunday afternoon, stumbled upon a deputation of pigeons, in a stateof fluttering impatience.
"She said to wait, and we thought you were never, never coming!" wastheir chorus.
"Never is a long day," said the Candy Man. "What will you have?"
It appeared they were the bearers of a missive which read briefly andto the point: "Her ladyship requests the pleasure of the Candy Man'spresence at the Pigeons' Christmas Tree, at four o'clock thisafternoon."
It had seemed to the Candy Man that he was altogether outside theholiday world, that for him Christmas had ended with his visit to thehospital that afternoon. He had ventured to send a basket of fruit tohis fellow lodgers, the invalid professor and his wife, and had playedSanta Claus to two or three newsboys who frequented the Y.M.C.A. cornerand to the small Malones, and the state of his exchequer scarcelywarranted anything more. The social calendar in the morning paperoverflowed with festivities for the week, and he had pleased his fancyby picturing Miss Bentley, radiant and lovely, in the midst of them. He,the lonely Candy Man, without the pale, could yet enjoy her pleasure inimagination. And lo! this lonely Candy Man was bidden to a tree onChristmas Eve, by her ladyship. He could not believe his eyes.
"It takes you a long time to read it," said Virginia. "You'd bettercome. It's late."
Dark was beginning to fall outside, but the Little Red Chimney room wasfull of firelight when the Candy Man was ushered in, in the wake of thechildren, by cordial Uncle Bob. It was a frolicsome, magical light thatplayed about a row of red stockings hanging from the shelf above it;that advanced to the farthest corner and then retreated; that coaxed anddared the unlighted Christmas tree by the piano to wake up and do itspart; that gleamed in Miss Bentley's hair as she seated the pigeons ina semicircle on the rug.
Was it the magic of the firelight, or the absence of the grey hat, orthe blue frock with its deep white collar, or, or--The Candy Man got nofurther with his questions, for just then Margaret Elizabeth turned andgave him her hand, explaining that they were so much stiller when theysat on the floor. She added that it was very good of him to come--apurely conventional and entirely inaccurate statement. He was alsoinstructed to sit on the sofa with Uncle Bob.
"And now," began Miss Bentley, standing with her back to the row of redstockings and looking into the upturned faces, "we are going to berather quiet, for this, you know, is both Christmas Eve and Sunday.First, we'll sing 'While Shepherds Watched,' very softly."
She sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, then her voice rose,clear and sweet, the pigeons following her lead, a bit quaveringly atfirst, but doing wonderfully well considering they were not song birds."She's been training them for weeks," Uncle Bob whispered.
After this came "Stille Nacht," and Uncle Bob joined in, and then theCandy Man, and presently the entrance of Dr. Prue was proclaimed by avigorous alto. The effect was most gratifying to the performers, andfrom the piano Margaret Elizabeth murmured, "Very good."
When the singing was over she took her seat on a low ottoman in themidst of the children, who drew closer. "Next," she said, patting thehand Virginia slipped within her arm, "comes the story, which onChristmas Eve everybody should either hear or read for himself."
Stillness fell on the Little Red Chimney room, the pigeons listened inbreathless absorption, while, forgetting herself and her audience, herhands loosely clasped on her knees, Margaret Elizabeth began the storywhich, as often as it may be told, yet throbs with tenderness andwonder. As she went on her eyes grew dark and deep, and in her faceshone something more than the sweetness and charm hitherto so endearing.Was it a prophecy? A glimpse into the unsounded heart of her?
Dr. Prue shaded her eyes with her hand; Uncle Bob wiped his glasses; theCandy Man's soul was stirred within him, but he gave no sign.
"And they brought gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, to the littleChild in the manger; so now in keeping his birthday, we give each othergifts and are happy because of the wonderful night so long ago," endedMargaret Elizabeth.
After that it was no longer still in the Little Red Chimney room. UncleBob set the tree alight, and her ladyship distributed the red stockings.Nobody was left out, not even the Candy Man, or Nancy and Jenny hoveringin the background.
Upon occasions like the Pigeons' Christmas Tree we long to linger, butthey are evanescent. The Candy Man must see the children home after afew brief words with Miss Bentley.
"The Fairy Godmother Society must have been organised, and my nameentered among its beneficiaries," he told her.
"I am glad if you liked it," she replied. "I thought you would.To-morrow I am going to Pennington Park to stay till after New Year's,but Christmas Eve belonged by rights to the Little Red Chimney." Shesmiled, and the Candy Man nodded understandingly.
This much in the midst of the chatter that accompanied the putting on ofsmall coats and leggings.
"And I may hope that I am forgiven?" he had a chance to add as she gavehim her hand at parting.
Miss Bentley's eyes twinkled. "It will do no harm to hope," she toldhim.
The Candy Man, his red stocking protruding from his overcoat pocket,conducted the noisy flock to their homes, then turning southward hewalked on and on toward the edge of the town. As is fitting on ChristmasEve, a fine snow had begun to fall, sifting silently over everything,transforming even the ugly and pitiful with a mantle of beauty.
The Candy Man, striding on through the night, felt an unreasoning joy ashe thought of Margaret Elizabeth telling the story with the firelight onher face. The world seemed throbbing with expectancy. Who could tellwhat splendid event awaited its near fulfilment?
The Little Red Chimney: Being the Love Story of a Candy Man Page 11
