A day or two passed with little change in the condition of affairs, in the Gordon household, but on the third afternoon, following the conversation between the two Alices, the younger one came in rather suddenly, and announced, in a whisper, that she had an idea.

In a little while Aunt Alice had suggested a walk “for a breath of fresh air,” with the result that they were soon out together, alone, walking in the lovely park which was close by.

“You see, Auntee,” began Alsie, “it was this way I tried and tried to think of some celebration, which would make us all cheerful and happy at Christmas, but the more I thought, the harder the problem seemed to get. We couldn’t have plays, for that would tire grandfather; a Christmas tree would remind us all of last Christmas, when dear Uncle James had such a beautiful one at his country place. It would make grandma cry and perhaps the rest of us, too to remember that that home had been broken up by the loss of the father and husband. Altogether, I was beginning to feel real discouraged. Mamma took me down town to lunch with her to-day, and the waiter brought in such a big, luscious piece of pie. You know, Auntee, I have always loved pie ’most as much as grandfather. I began to think how long it had been since he had had a single taste of pie, and yet he has never complained. I began to wish O, so much that grandfather could enjoy that delicious bit of pie. The tears came into my eyes, Auntee, and I said to mamma, ’If grandfather could just eat this one piece of pie, mamma, I would be willing to do without pie for the rest of my life.’

“It was then, Auntee, that the idea came to me. Couldn’t we have a Christmas pie for grandfather which, instead of having a filling of rich custards or fruits, would contain all the cunning little presents that we grandchildren could make for him?”

“Why, Alsie, what an idea! I’ve heard of the Jack Horner pie and other varieties, perhaps, but who would have thought of the idea of a Christmas pie of that kind! We’ll certainly carry it out, for your pretty idea was the offspring of an unselfish impulse, and a sympathetic tear, and it surely will thrive and bear fruit.”

“Let’s see, Auntee a pie must always be round, mus’n’t it?”

“And this one will have to be big, too,” replied Alice, “for there are lots of us who want to have a finger in it. Those dear co-workers with father, who have kept his sick-room so fragrant and beautiful with flowers, must each be allowed a little space for a card of greeting. In fact, Alsie, I think it would be a good idea to invite all his most beloved circle of friends to send a little message of love, for only the other day he said to me, ’There is nothing so acceptable to a man lying on a bed of sickness as an offering of love be it a message, a flower, a visit, or a delicacy it is delightful to be remembered.’”

“Well, Auntee, I’ll see all the cousins within reach and write to the others, and you do the same with the grown folks of the family, and the rule must be that each is to put into the pie something that will please grandfather or make him laugh.”

“Fine, Alsie, fine. It’s a good rule to make, for it’s a ’Merry Christmas’ we are striving for, and I don’t believe our efforts will fail if we put into them all the love and energy which the family say you and I possess, in a like degree.”

“We haven’t much time to lose, either, Auntee, for we have lots to do in the three weeks that remain to us. Now, as to business, what are we going to make the pie-crust of I mean what material will take the place of the pie-crust, which you know is what holds the goodies?”

“It must be considerably stronger than the crisp, brittle crust which Aunt Bettie brings to our table,” replied Aunt Alice with a laugh.

After a moment she continued, “I wonder if we couldn’t get hold of one of those hat-boxes which are made to hold the enormous ‘creations’ we see every day in the milliners’ shops, and on the heads of so many pretty girls. We can make the effort, anyhow, and if we don’t succeed in finding just what we want, needles and cardboard are plentiful and we can make a box to suit ourselves, for it must be at least twenty-five or thirty inches in diameter and six inches high to hold the filling.”

They walked slowly homeward, discussing various little points which occurred to them along the way, until, when Alice walked back into the front door of her home, what was her surprise and delight to feel that the weight of the sorrow, which had so oppressed her, was lightened. She felt almost buoyant in her eagerness for Christmas to come.

And now a busy season began. It was hard to think of anything suitable for the invalid, for had not the loving hands of his wife and children provided everything that might add to the comfort of the beloved head of the household?

There was one little feature that had been overlooked, however grandfather possessed no foot-warmers. So Alsie’s energies were at once set to work on these articles, which were destined to be “real comforts” in the weeks which followed Christmas.

The story of grandfather’s pie was soon spread, not only through the family, but also to a large circle of friends. Everybody was cautioned, however, to keep the secret from Mrs. Gordon, for it was decreed that the faithful little “wifey” (no one had ever heard the Captain address his wife by any other name than that, which he had bestowed upon her during their honeymoon) should share the surprise and pleasure with her husband.

“Mr. Doctor, what are you going to put in the Christmas pie?” exclaimed Alice merrily one morning, after telling the physician of the plan.

“I think I’ll contribute the turkey,” he answered with a smile. “A turkey, of course, which won’t take up too much space, and the dressing I’ll put in that turkey will be calculated to make any sick man well. Do you understand?”

Alice didn’t quite understand, but was willing to leave the matter in his hands.

Little Jack was quite worried that he could think of nothing to make grandfather laugh, and one day when he was in the sick-chamber he blurted out, “Grandfather, what would you rather have me give you for Christmas than anything else?”

The laugh came then before time for it explained to grandfather the uneasy, doubtful expression which had enveloped the little lad’s face just previous to the asking of the question.

“Well, I’ll tell you, Jack, what would please me more than anything else a perfect report from your teacher. If you could bring me this, on Christmas Day, I would know that it meant hard work for a boy, who is as fond of play and mischief as you.”

Nothing more was said on the subject, but little Jack passed out of the room with a stern resolution that that report should be forthcoming, and when Aunt Alice was told of it she exclaimed enthusiastically, “O, Jacky boy, you must get that perfect report, even if it does mean hard work, and we’ll lay it in the very center of the pie, sealed up in the prettiest Christmas envelope that I can paint.”