The mince pies were in their place , but they were almost the only things about which that could be truthfully said , for the disorder of that pantry was enough to give a tidy person nightmares for a month . `` I never in all my life saw -- '' began Alberta , and then stopped short , evidently remembering Mother 's teaching . `` Where is the plum pudding ? '' said I , to turn the conversation into safer channels . It was nowhere to be seen , so we concluded it must be in the cellar . But we found the cellar door padlocked good and fast . `` Never mind , '' said Elizabeth . `` You know none of us really likes plum pudding . We only eat it because it is the proper traditional dessert . The mince pies will suit us better . '' We hurried the turkey into the oven , and soon everything was going merrily . We had lots of fun getting up that dinner , and we made ourselves perfectly at home , as Aunt Jean had commanded . We kindled a fire in the dining room and dusted everything in sight . We could n't find anything remotely resembling a duster , so we used our handkerchiefs . When we got through , the room looked like something , for the furnishings were really very handsome , but our handkerchiefs -- well ! Then we set the table with all the nice dishes we could find . There was only one long tablecloth in the sideboard drawer , and there were three holes in it , but we covered them with dishes and put a little potted palm in the middle for a centrepiece . At one o'clock dinner was ready for us and we for it . Very nice that table looked , too , as we sat down to it . Just as Alberta was about to spear the turkey with a fork and begin carving , that being one of her specialties , the kitchen door opened and somebody walked in .
Before we could move , a big , handsome , bewhiskered man in a fur coat appeared XXXXX the dining-room doorway .
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