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In any case Christmas at the McCafferty farm was another thing entirely. Although there wasn’t much money for presents, there were still lots of wonderful things: cookies and pies and a huge Christmas tree that they’d cut down themselves, bringing it home on the big sled. There was a great, fat goose for Christmas dinner, currently hanging in the ice house, waiting to be trussed; there were Christmas crackers for the table, and a bowl full of oranges stuck with cloves that filled the house with a warm, spicy scent.
Now, as school let out for a fortnight, there were whoops of joy as children poured from the little building into Stella’s Front Street, several boys with skates tossed over their shoulder, eager to try their blades on the cleared space on the shallow inlets of the lake, which had frozen hard last week.
Ellen walked slowly home with the McCaffertys and Lymans, as had become their habit. Jed almost lazily threw a snowball at Lucas, who only just managed to dodge it. He threw one back, halfheartedly, as he wasn’t one for foolery the way Jed was.
“What are you getting in your stocking then, Ellen?” Jed called. “A broom and dust pan?”
“And you’ll be getting a lump of coal,” Ellen returned. She knew Jed liked to tease her about being the McCaffertys’ little maid. It didn’t bother her now, because she knew she was much more.
A boy whose father worked in the post office came running up to them, his face red with cold. “A telegram’s come,” he announced breathlessly. “For the McCafferty farm. Pa said to give it to you before you got halfway to home.”
Ellen thanked him, trepidation flooding her happy heart, turning it to ice. Her breath came in frosty puffs as she stared down at the single sheet of paper.
Train fare to be reimbursed. Stop. Ellen to come home by Christmas.
Ellen looked up, her face pale. A telegram. Ruth must really want her home... except Seaton wasn’t home, and never would be. Amherst Island was. And now she’d have to leave, just when everything was becoming so exciting. She’d miss Christmas Day, and the cooked goose and the crackers... She’d made little presents for everyone, and now she wouldn’t see anyone open them. And Patch would miss her terribly. Ellen’s mouth puckered as she tried to hold in the tears.
“What is it, Ellen?” Caro demanded, pushing her way towards her. “Why do you look so funny?” She snatched the telegram from Ellen’s numb fingers, her mouth forming the words soundlessly. “But you can’t leave! Not before Christmas!”
“I’m not I can sure disobey Aunt Ruth,” Ellen answered as she blinked back her tears. “But maybe Aunt Rose will have something to say about it.”
Ellen hoped Aunt Rose had a few tricks up her sleeve to keep her with the McCaffertys for a while, but there could be no doubting the cold, hard truth that faced her with that abrupt message.
Time was running out.
For the next week, Ellen pushed the thought of returning to Seaton out of her mind. Rose had sent a telegram to Ruth, insisting she could not part with Ellen till after the syruping, in April. Ruth had replied, her reluctance coming through even in a telegram, that this was barely acceptable.
“Three more months, then,” Rose told Ellen cheerfully, and with the snow knee-deep and all of the Christmas festivities to look forward to, three months seemed like a lifetime.
Christmas was everything Ellen had hoped it would be. Caro nudged her out of bed while it was still dark and the floorboards were freezing. Wrapped up in their dressing gowns and slippers, everyone tumbled downstairs to open their stockings; Ellen was delighted with the little treats in hers. There was a new box of pencils, a bag of lemon drops, and in the stocking’s toe, a whole orange.
After stockings, there was breakfast and chores to be seen to, even on Christmas, and then there were even more presents under the tree. Ellen received a dress, cut down from one of Rose’s but as good as new; three new hair ribbons, in different shades of green; and best of all, a pair of Rose’s old ice skates which she was desperate to try out.
“And this came from Seaton just yesterday,” Rose said with a smile, as she brought out an impressively large parcel wrapped with brown paper and tied with string.
“Oh, open it, do, Ellen!” Caro urged, and Peter could not keep himself from undoing the string.
Ellen could not imagine what her aunt and uncle might have sent her. Since they had not acknowledged her birthday, she’d assumed Christmas would pass the same way. Now she carefully pulled off the lid of the box, and then gazed in silent surprise at the dress lying swathed in tissue paper within.
“Oh look!” Caro breathed, and Ruthie reached out to stroke it.
“Try it on, Ellen!” Sarah cried, and carefully Ellen lifted the dress from the box.
It was a beautiful thing, made of crimson velvet, with a satin sash and a stiff lace collar. It was really quite the most beautiful dress Ellen had ever seen, much less owned. She stroked the soft material, just as Ruthie had.
“What a lovely dress,” Rose said. “And look, there’s a note.” She reached in the box for the envelope that had nestled among the folds of tissue paper and handed it to Ellen, who opened it and read silently.
Dear Ellen. I made it a little bigger than your autumn dresses, for you’ve surely grown since we last saw you. It should last the winter at least. Your loving Aunt Ruth and Uncle Hamish.
Yet this dress was nothing like the serviceable dresses of navy muslin that Ruth had made up for Ellen back in September. This dress was luxurious and elegant and expensive, and Ellen was almost reluctant to wear it.
“I don’t want to get it dirty,” she said, and Rose laughed.
“We can always clean it, Ellen, child. Wear it to church this afternoon, or to the village dance at New Year’s.”
“Oh yes, Ellen,” Caro cried, “wear it to the dance!”
Ellen nodded and put the lid back on the box. She felt strangely discomfited by the present; Aunt Ruth had surprised her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She realized, with a pang of guilt, that she had not sent them presents. It had not even occurred to her. She’d bring presents for them when she returned, Ellen decided. An embroidered handkerchief for Aunt Ruth, and some pipe tobacco for Uncle Hamish. This made her feel a little better, if still a bit uneasy.
