"Is Mr. Broke coming to dinner to-morrow?"
"Yes; he would not miss his Christmas with us. The others are all coming, I suppose?"
"Every one. The two Knightlys, Uncle Furbish and Amelia, Dr. Netherlands, and Mrs. Purview and her son."
"And I hope you mean to have a good dinner for us, Mrs. Brightly."
"Certainly. Did I ever fail? And your Christmas dinners, John, for all the poor people that expect them from us, are they ordered?"
"Not yet. That is another reason for me to despatch. The pick of the market will be all gone, if I am late. Now then, My dear, one spasm, and you are up."
CHAPTER II.
Of all the luxuries of town life on this globe, there is no luxury greater than a rattling walk down Broadway on a cold winter's morning.
So John Brightly thought as he strode along on that day before Christmas.
It was early, but the shops had all opened their eyes wide, and put on their most seductive smiles in honor of the season. Everything that the brain of man has fancied and the hands of man have contrived, had taken its stand at the windows to persuade passengers to stop and admire, and then to
