The desire to flee which Jennie experienced upon seeing the Senator again was attributable to what she considered the disgrace of her position. She was ashamed to think that he, who thought so well of her, should discover her doing so common a thing. Girl-like, she was inclined to imagine that his interest in her depended upon something else than her mere personality.

When she reached home Mrs. Gerhardt had heard of her flight from the other children.

“What was the matter with you, anyway?” asked George, when she came in.

“Oh, nothing,” she answered, but immediately turned to her mother and said, “Mr. Brander came by and saw us.”

“Oh, did he?” softly exclaimed her mother. “He’s back then. What made you run, though, you foolish girl?”

“Well, I didn’t want him to see me.”

“Well, maybe he didn’t know you, anyhow,” she said, with a certain sympathy for her daughter’s predicament.

“Oh yes, he did, too,” whispered Jennie. “He called after me three or four times.”

Mrs. Gerhardt shook her head.

“What is it?” said Gerhardt, who had been hearing the conversation from the adjoining room, and now came out.

“Oh, nothing,” said the mother, who hated to explain the significance which the Senator’s personality had come to have in their lives. “A man frightened them when they were bringing the coal.”

The arrival of the Christmas presents later in the evening threw the household into an uproar of excitement. Neither Gerhardt nor the mother could believe their eyes when a grocery wagon halted in front of their cottage and a lusty clerk began to carry in the gifts. After failing to persuade the clerk that he had made a mistake, the large assortment of good things was looked over with very human glee.

“Just you never mind,” was the clerk’s authoritative words. “I know what I’m about. Gerhardt, isn’t it? Well, you’re the people.”

Mrs. Gerhardt moved about, rubbing her hands in her excitement, and giving vent to an occasional “Well, isn’t that nice now!”

Gerhardt himself was melted at the thought of the generosity of the unknown benefactor, and was inclined to lay it all to the goodness of a great local mill owner, who knew him and wished him well. Mrs. Gerhardt tearfully suspected the source, but said nothing. Jennie knew, by instinct, the author of it all.

The afternoon of the day after Christmas Brander encountered the mother in the hotel, Jennie having been left at home to look after the house.

“How do you do, Mrs. Gerhardt,” he exclaimed genially extending his hand. “How did you enjoy your Christmas?”

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