The drawing room is filled with all manner of Christmas decorations. A 6-foot-fir, decorated with glass balls of different colors Christine found shopping for gifts in the city. Added to what she called filler pieces were the ornaments collected over years past – those made by the family and gifts from friends. As was tradition from their first Christmas together, a popcorn and cranberry garland was draped over the tree along with the paper chains the younger children made with the help of Miss Fleck, once again using Erik's concoction of flour and water the paste to hold the string together. When looking for electrical lighting to enhance the concessions at the park, Erik discovered a novelty shop with electric lights, created specifically for Christmas trees. He purchased several sets to complement the Edison bulbs the family had been using.
Erik stokes the fire, sending a flash of sparks and ash up the chimney. Placing the brass screen in front of the hearth, he checks the stockings to be certain none were damaged by wayward cinders. Each of the five stockings has an orange in the toe, some coins, sweets and other trinkets Christine chose especially for the child whose name was embroidered on the front. Emilie…new ribbons for her hair. Henry…a set of colored pencils. Margaret…a locket with an image of toe shoes filigreed on the top. Joshie a pair of drumsticks to go with his new snare drum, wrapped and sitting under the tree. Lastly, Angelique…pair of stockings to wear with her new leather shoes.
When he asked about the Christmas traditions, Adele told him the story of St. Nicholas learning of a poor man who was unable to find suitors for his three daughters because there was no money for a dowry. In the spirit of generosity, St. Nicholas went to the man's house and tossed three sacks of gold down the chimney for each of the dowries. The gold happened to land in each of the girls' stockings which were hanging by the fire to dry. The oranges represent the gold. Of course, there would be some real spending coins, wrapped candy, along with small toys or other whatnots each child would enjoy.
"How are you going to explain the fire to the children?" Christine asks. "They will be expecting Santa to come down the chimney. They take this quite seriously, I received explicit instructions to provide the snack you see before you – pecan cookies, macarons and meringues with eggnog, to wash all the sweetness down for the Jolly Old Man."
"I already told them Albert sent a wire to the North Pole advising him we would likely have a fire burning and would not wish him to injure himself. Grain would be provided for the reindeer on the front lawn and an assortment of treats for himself and his elves within."
"Did you really?"
"Send it…no. But I penned the letter with the help of Emilie, Henry, Margaret and Joshie," he chuckled. "They were most serious about not offending him – about having to use the front door – and then we compiled the menu you were instructed to prepare," he says. "Are they asleep?"
"Yes, thankfully, the day was spent almost entirely preparing the gifts for the employee's families as well as the clothing and foodstuffs for the St. Vincent de Paul Society."
"Do not forget to give the monetary donation to Julia and Gustave before they leave to make the delivery."
"No need, I will take care of it – they cannot handle the gifts and all the children without assistance. I rather enjoy these visits. You should come along, I do not understand why you will not accompany us – this was your idea, after all," she says. "Purchasing those gifts and putting the packages together find you almost as happy as finding gifts for the children."
"I tend to attract too much attention. Better the children go – see what they do help those who are without. To understand the meaning of compassion." Tucking his head down, he turns away from the fire to sit in his leather wing-backed chair.
Does that mean nothing?
I love her!
Show some compassion!
The world showed no compassion to me!
"Are you crying?" Christine stops arranging the refreshments rushing to kneel on the floor next to him, pressing her hand on his thigh. "Why so emotional? You were full of cheer only moments ago. Memories again?"
Folding her hand in both of his, he nods. "The word – compassion – connected with the charity."
"Yes?"
"That night – the last night below the Garnier…"
"Raoul spoke of you having compassion for him."
"And I replied the world had no compassion for me," he removes one of his hands to smooth the curls from her forehead, smiling down on her as she looks up at him. "Then you kissed me – a true act of compassion because until that time no one could bear looking at me, much less offer a kiss."
"I remembered how much I loved you – as a mentor, friend, confidant. I also did not want Raoul to die – for both your sakes. I did not want you killing again."
"But you kissed me once more."
"Yes. I did. I never experienced the feelings pulsing through me as I did with the first kiss – I had to experience them again. To tell you I chose to be with you in all good faith – not just a gesture."
"I knew then I had to let you go – your compassion showed me how terribly selfish and, yes, hateful I was being."
Getting up from the floor, she settles herself on his lap, her legs dangle over the arms, head resting on his chest. "So why are you now recalling those events – I thought we had resolved those issues. What does that night have to do with St. Vincent de Paul of all things?"
"When you and Raoul left, I hid. There was a secret compartment built into my chair leading to a passageway leading out of the opera house. Without really knowing where I might hide, even with all my hiding places, I feared I would be found had I stayed at the Garnier. I remembered the mission set up in the slum area and made my way there."
"The priests took you in?"
"Mmm, no questions asked – I did not have my mask or wig – just the clothes on my back – naked, for all intents and purposes to my mind."
"Just as I left you?"
"Not my usual composed and well-dressed self at all," he snickers. "Truly wretched in all ways."
"But no one was afraid or abusive – they simply accepted you – and you were grateful?"
"Yes – this followed the practice of their namesake. As one story has it…from DePaul's own letters…he was abducted and enslaved for a time – being bought and sold over and over…for about two years. It was through the help of a Muslim woman, the wife of his then master, who became so convinced of Vincent's faith, she admonished her husband for leaving his own Christian practice. The man…his name was Gautier, was a former priest and converted to Islam to escape his own slavery. In any event, when chastised by his wife, he was so remorseful about his conversion he secured passage for DePaul and himself to France, where he freed Vincent. Once there, DePaul, who once wanted only a life of ease, would go on to serve the poor, including victims of war and galley slaves from North Africa."
"A fascinating story – St Nicholas and St. Vincent De Paul, both men addressing the suffering of others – one, himself, at one time in desperate need of rescue. That man Gautier reminds me of our Nadir. You must have felt relieved – lacking hope, losing everything…" Caressing his cheek with her hand, she nestles closer to him. I am so sorry."
"No – do not be," he says, tightening his arms around her. "After a lifetime of rejection, within an hour's time – I was gifted with two acts of compassion, changing my life forever."
"Now I understand your efforts for your charity."
"I am truly blessed. Those two experiences affected me in ways I never believed possible." Kissing her on the forehead. "Now, my lady, we must leave this room as the hour is approaching midnight and I should not want any snoopy little ones to think we were preventing Santa from coming into the house."
"You are Santa Claus, I am certain of it," she says, straightening her dressing gown of red satin.
"I am not that virtuous, my dear," he says, putting out the table lamp and taking her arm, leading her to the door. "Ah, did you happen to notice the sprig of mistletoe hanging just above us."
"No, but it appears you did."
"I told you I lacked virtue."
"Not at all, some of your finest attributes are your kisses," she laughs lightly, lifting her lips up to his. "Shall we?"
"We shall…and then off to bed."