Christmas again brought all the young people home for the holidays. It brought, also, a Christmas party at James Blaisdell's home. It was a very different party, however, from the housewarming of a year before.  
To begin with, the attendance was much smaller; Mrs. Hattie had been very exclusive in her invitations this time. She had not invited "everybody who ever went anywhere." There were , and cigarettes for the ladies, too.
 
As before, Mr. Smith and Miss Maggie went together. Miss Maggie, who had not attended any social since Father Duff died, yielded to Mr. Smith's urgings and said that she would go to this. But Miss Maggie wished that she had not gone—there were so many, many features about that party that Miss Maggie did not like.
 
She did not like the champagne nor the cigarettes. She did not like Bessie's showy, low-cut dress, nor her airs. She did not like the look in Fred's eyes, nor the way he drank the champagne. She did not like Jane's to bring Mellicent and Hibbard Gaylord into each other's company—nor the way Mr. Smith to get Mellicent for himself.
 
Of all these, except the very last, Miss Maggie talked with Mr. Smith on the way home—yet it was the very last that was uppermost in her mind, except perhaps, Fred. She did speak of Fred; but because that, too, was so much to her, she waited until the last before she of it.
 
"You saw Fred, of course," she began then.
 
"Yes." Short as the word was, it carried a volume of meaning to Miss
Maggie's fearful ears. She turned to him quickly.
"Mr. Smith, it—it isn't true, is it?"
 
"I'm afraid it is."
 
"You saw him—drinking, then?"
 
"Yes. I saw some, and I heard—more. It's just as I feared. He's got in with Gaylord and the rest of his set at college, and they're a bad lot—drinking, gambling—no good."
 
"But Fred wouldn't—gamble, Mr. Smith! Oh, Fred wouldn't do that. And he's so ambitious to get ahead! Surely he'd know he couldn't get anywhere in his studies, if—if he drank and gambled!"
 
"It would seem so."
 
"Did you see his father? I saw him only a minute at the first, and he didn't look well a bit, to me."
 
"Yes, I saw him. I found him in his just as I did last year. He didn't look well to me, either."
 
"Did he say anything about—Fred?"
 
"Not a word—and that's what worries me the most. Last year he talked a lot about him, and was so proud and happy in his coming success. This time he never mentioned him; but he looked—bad."
 
"What did he talk about?"
 
"Oh, books, business:—nothing in particular. And he wasn't interested in what he did say. He was very different from last year."
 
"Yes, I know. He is different," sighed Maggie. "He's talked with me quite a lot about—about the way they're living. He doesn't like—so much fuss and show and society."
 
Mr. Smith frowned.
 
"But I thought—Mrs. Hattie would get over all that by this time, after the newness of the money was worn off."
 
"I hoped she would. But—she doesn't. It's worse, if anything," sighed
Miss Maggie, as they the steps at her own door.
Mr. Smith frowned again.
 
"And Miss Bessie—" he began , then stopped. "Now, Miss
Mellicent—" he resumed, in a very different voice.
But Miss Maggie was not listening. With a rather loud of the doorknob she was pushing open the door.
 
"Why, how hot it is! Did I leave that damper open?" she cried, hurrying into the living-room.
 
And Mr. Smith, hurrying after, evidently forgot to finish his sentence.
 
Miss Maggie did not attend any more of the merrymakings of that holiday week. But Mr. Smith did. It seemed to Miss Maggie, indeed, that Mr. Smith was away nearly every minute of that long week—and it WAS a long week to Miss Maggie. Even the Martin girls were away many of the evenings. Miss Maggie told herself that that was why the house seemed so lonesome.
 
But though Miss Maggie did not participate in the gay doings, she heard of them. She heard of them on all sides, except from Mr. Smith—and on all sides she heard of the devotion of Mr. Smith to Miss Mellicent. She concluded that this was the reason why Mr. Smith himself was so silent.
 
Miss Maggie was shocked and . She was also very much puzzled. She had supposed that Mr. Smith understood that Mellicent and young Gray cared for each other, and she had thought that Mr. Smith even approved of the affair between them. Now to push himself on the scene in this absurd fashion and try "to cut everybody out," as it was vulgarly termed—she never would have believed it of Mr. Smith in the world. And she was disappointed, too. She liked Mr. Smith very much. She had considered him to be a man of good sense and good . And had he not himself said, not so long ago, that he believed lovers should be of the same age, tastes, and habits? And yet, here now he was—
 
And there could be no mistake about it. Everybody was saying the same thing. The Martin girls brought it home as current gossip. Jane was highly exercised over it, and even Harriet had exclaimed over the " Mellicent was carrying on with that man old enough to be her father!" No, there was no mistake. Besides, did she not see with her own eyes that Mr. Smith was gone every day and evening, and that, when he was at home at meal-time, he was silent and , and not like himself at all?
 
And it was such a pity—she had thought so much of Mr. Smith! It really made her feel quite ill.
 
And Miss Maggie looked ill on the last evening of that holiday week when, at nine o'clock, Mr. Smith found her sitting idle-handed before the stove in the living-room.
 
"Why, Miss Maggie, what's the matter with you?" cried the man, in very evident concern. "You don't look like yourself to-night!"
 
Miss Maggie pulled herself up hastily.
 
"Nonsense! I—I'm well. I'm just—tired, I guess. You're home early, Mr. Smith." In spite of herself Miss Maggie's voice carried a of something not quite pleasant.
 
Mr. Smith, however, did not appear to notice it.
 
"Yes, I'm home early for once, thank Heaven!" he half , as he dropped himself into a chair.
 
"It has been a week for you, hasn't it?" Again the tinge of something not quite pleasant in Miss Maggie's voice.
 
"Yes, but it's been worth it."
 
"Of course!"
 
Mr. Smith turned and looked at Miss Maggie. There was a vague questioning in his eyes. Obtaining, apparently, however, no satisfactory answer from Miss Maggie's , he turned away and began speaking again.
 
"Well, anyway, I've what I set out to do."
 
"You-you've ALREADY accomplished it?" Miss Maggie. She was gazing at him now with startled, half-frightened eyes.
 
"Yes. Why, Miss Maggie, what's the matter? What makes you look so—so queer?"
 
"Queer? Nonsense! Why, nothing—nothing at all," laughed Miss Maggie , but very gayly. "I may have been a little—surprised, for a moment; but I'm very glad—very."
 
"Glad?"
 
"Why, yes, for—for you. Isn't one always glad when—when a love affair is—is all settled?"
 
"Oh, then you suspected it." Mr. Smith smiled pleasantly, but without . "It doesn't matter, of course, only—well, I had hoped it wasn't too ."
 
"Oh, but you couldn't expect to hide a thing like that, Mr. Smith," retorted Miss Maggie, with what was very evidently intended for an arch smile. "I heard it everywhere—everywhere."
 
"The you did!" frowned Mr. Smith, looking slightly annoyed. "Well, I suppose I couldn't expect to keep a thing like that in the dark. Still, I don't believe the parties themselves—quite understood. Of course, Pennock and Gaylord knew that they were kept effectually away, but I don't believe they realized just how it was done. Of course, Gray understood from the first."
 
"Poor Mr. Gray! I—I can't help being sorry for him."
 
"SORRY for him!"
 
"Certainly; and I should think YOU might give him a little sympathy," rejoined Miss Maggie spiritedly. "You KNOW how much he cared for Mellicent."
 
Mr. Smith sat suddenly in his chair.
 
"Cared for her! Sympathy! Why, what in the world are you talking about? Wasn't I doing the best I could for them all the time? Of COURSE, it kept HIM away from her, too, just as it did Pennock and Gaylord; but HE understood. Besides, he HAD her part of the time. I let him in whenever it was possible."
 
"Let him in!" Miss Maggie was sitting erect now. "Whatever in the world are YOU talking about? Do you mean to say you were doing this FOR Mr. Gray, all the time?"
 
"Why, of course! Whom else should I do it for? You............