"Oh, she is ever so much better this morning," said Caroline. "You see, it has been so damp the last few days, and yesterday the wind was very keen."

"And she always gets cold in the nasty wind, don't you Boodles, my precious?"

The mother hugged the little figure in her arms, then stretched out her hand to Caroline.

"A happy Christmas!" she said, and then in the same breath, "how well you look, and how nice! And oh, what a wonderful lot of toys! Why, Babsy, Santa Claus must have nearly broken his back bringing all these things."

With the child nestling in her arms, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

"I've got a most awful headache," she said wearily. "We were up till any hour this morning.... Have you some strong smelling-salts, Caroline? Chris Bardolph brought me over here in the motor." She sniffed the salts, and lay aback with closed eyes for awhile. Then she said, "I thought the air would do me good, but I feel quite cracked up.

Where is everybody?" she asked the next moment languidly; and she smiled when she heard that the whole party had migrated to church.

"Has he gone?" she asked, and then she answered the question herself; "but of course. I am sure he must sing hymns most beautifully."

"I don't think Mr. Haverford went with the others," Caroline said; "he said he would take Betty and the maid who has gone with her to ma.s.s."

"But he is not a Catholic," Mrs. Lancing observed quickly; "there is another duty for me! I shall have to try and make a convert of him. Oh dear, my head!... It feels as if it would come in two! Babsy darling, mummy must go down and rest in her own room...."

But Babsy clung to her mother, refusing to be separated, and of course got her way.

Left to herself, Caroline Graniger stood and looked out of the window thoughtfully. A shadow had gathered on her face.

She felt both pained and irritated, and found herself hoping almost eagerly that Mrs. Lancing would not speak of Rupert Haverford to others in that slighting, half-mocking manner.

From where she stood she could see right down almost to the entrance gates, for the trees were leafless, and the window where she stood was set high.

Rupert Haverford was walking up the broad drive briskly, and Betty was dancing beside him.

Caroline studied him attentively for a time, then turned away from the window and laughed.

"How ridiculous I am!" she said to herself; "why on earth should I mind if she sneers at him or praises him? a.s.suredly it is no affair of mine."

Of course Betty went straight to her mother's room on entering the house, and after a while Miss Graniger went down to fetch both children.

She found Mrs. Lancing on the sofa with one little daughter crouched up beside her, and the other engaged in softly rubbing her brows.

"I wish I could go to bed," Camilla said. "I do hate these kind of family functions. And Agnes loves them."

There was a fretful tone in her voice.

"Poor mummy," said Betty, and stooping, she laid her pretty little lips on her mother's face.

Both children were so happy to be with her.

"Sit down and tell me all you have been doing since I saw you,"

commanded Mrs. Lancing. "How long have you been down here? It seems like a century to me."

"Have you wanted us very much, sweetie?" asked Betty, and Camilla turned to kiss the dear little face.

"So much--oh, so much!" and then she moved a little impatiently on the couch. "Some one is knocking," she said; "it must be Aunty Brenny. Open the door and bring her in, Betty."

She just flashed a look at Caroline and gave a little laugh.

"Now for my scolding," she said in a low voice.

But Mrs. Brenton did not scold. She greeted Camilla most gently and affectionately, and was greatly concerned to hear about the bad headache.

The mere fact, however, that she ignored all mention of the truant act of the night before stung Camilla into a little show of bad temper.

"Don't for goodness' sake follow Rupert's lead," she said, "and adopt a martyr-like expression. I know perfectly well, Agnes, that you were furious with me because I did not turn up last night, now, weren't you?"

"I was not furious exactly," said Mrs. Brenton, "but disappointed, and rather surprised."

"I couldn't help it," said Camilla, in the same impatient way; and then the colour flooded her face and her eyes lit up for an instant as she smiled.

"Don't grudge me my few remaining holidays; I shall not have too many in the future. Yes, darlings"--this to Betty--"you must go. Caroline wants to make you ready for lunch. You are going to put on those pretty new frocks that I sent down and make yourselves ever so smart. Of course you shall sit next me at luncheon. What an idea! Where else would you sit? I shall have one of you on each side of me."

Mrs. Brenton was speaking as the children were going out of the room with Caroline.

"So it was an excuse," Caroline heard her say, in a strained voice; "and Pamela Bardolph is not ill?"

"An excuse, of course," Mrs. Lancing answered, with a laugh. "I knew they were going to have a really lovely time, and when Pamela pressed me to go just for one night, I really could not resist the temptation.

We had such fun, Agnes, and finished up with...."

Caroline hurried the children out of the room. She always dreaded what Betty would repeat. The child was very sharp, and her memory was extremely retentive.

It was difficult to chat lightly with the children as she dressed them and made them pretty for the big Christmas Day luncheon.

Caroline had said "Good-bye" to all her former isolation.

Though she still stood alone, and had no one on whom she could make a real claim, her life all at once seemed charged with ties and privileges; already she had commenced to expand, to weave the tendrils of her affections, her sympathy, and her tender thought in and about these people among whom she now lived and moved.

She recognized a great debt of grat.i.tude to Agnes Brenton, but for Camilla she felt something deeper than grat.i.tude.

In this phase of awakened emotions she would naturally have turned to some outlet for her feelings, even if she had drifted into touch with the most ordinary, the most commonplace of individuals; but thrust, as she had been, suddenly into the stirring atmosphere of life as it was lived in Camilla Lancing's household, and hemmed about by the beguiling influences of an absolutely fascinating personality, Caroline at once lost her heart.

But just because this heart was stirred so strongly, so deeply, she could not deny herself the right to judge Camilla; and it was an easy task to judge now.

"Why marry him if she despises him so much?" asked Caroline of herself.

"There is surely no law to make her do this?"

Dennis came up to give her a helping hand, and told her that Mrs.

Lancing wanted to go downstairs with the children.

"She's not fit to stand, that she isn't," said the maid; "but she'll go through the lunch somehow, and then she'll have to rest." Here Dennis exhibited, with great pride and excitement, the beautiful watch that Mr. Haverford had given her.

"There hasn't no one been forgotten," she said; "he is a proper sort of man! This is a happy Christmas for us, my dear."

Indeed, Dennis's aspect was entirely changed. She seemed to have grown a little fat, and Betty quickly discovered that she had on a new gown, apparently an amazing event.