I couldn't." Unwinding her arms from about her mother's neck, Grace linked one arm through Mrs.
Harlowe's and marched her into the adjoining living room.
"Doesn't it look exactly like Christmas ?" she asked proudly.

"See the tree.

Isn't it a beauty?
We have loads of presents, too.

Isn't Miriam a goose and a dear all rolled into one?
She won't come to my Christmas tree because she isn't one of the Eight Originals.

I asked her to be a Ninth Original, but she said 'No.' She is coming, though, only she doesn't know it.