The fireboard before the great chimney-place in the spacious dining room of the old Corner House in Milton had been removed by Uncle Rufus, and in the dusk of the winter's afternoon the black pit of it yawned, ogre-like, upon the festive room. The shadows were black under the big tree, the tip of which touched the very high ceiling and which had just been set up in the far corner and not yet festooned. The girls were all busy bringing tinsel and glittering balls and cheery red bells and strings of pink and white popcorn, while yards and yards of evergreen "rope," with which to trim the room itself, were heaped in a corner. It was the day but one before Christmas, and without the gaslight-or even the usual gas-log fire on the hearth-the dining room was gloomy even at mid-afternoon. Whenever Dot Kenway passed the black opening under the high and ornate mantel, she shuddered.