Mr. Force found a warm, crimson, cashmere dressing gown, the united gift of his children; an embroidered silk smoking cap, from his wife; a pair of beaded slippers, from Miss Meeke, and a Turkish chibouk and a can of Turkish tobacco, brought all the way from beyond seas and kept for this day, by Le.

Mrs. Force found a sealskin dolman--one of the first ever made in this country--with m.u.f.f and turban to match, from her husband; a satin patchwork quilt, which had been the secret work of a year, from her children; an embroidered hand screen, from Miss Meeke, and an elegant ivory fan, brought from Canton, by Le.

Odalite received a "handy" edition of Shakespeare, in twelve small volumes, bound in white vellum and silver and inclosed in a white morocco case, with silver clasps, from her father; a small Bible, prayer book and hymn book, bound in white velvet, with silver clasps and inclosed in a hand case of white morocco, for church service, from her mother; a very handsome and completely fitted workbox, brought all the way from Canton, from Le.

Le himself received a very princely gift from his uncle, namely, a fine, young horse of famous stock, with a handsome saddle and bridle, from his aunt. These gifts were not exactly found in his chamber, only the letter conferring them on his dressing table. A box of articles made by Odalite during the three years of his absence--namely, six dozen white lambs' wool socks, knit by her own fingers, and each pair warranted to outlast any dozen pairs of machine-made hose; six ample zephyr wool scarfs, to be used--if allowed--during the deck watches of the winter nights at sea; six dozen pairs of lambs' wool gloves, six dozen pocket handkerchiefs, with his name worked in the corners with the dark hair of her head. All these, for their intrinsic usefulness, would have been very valuable; but for the love and thought worked into them by the dear fingers of her whom he loved, and during the longs years of his absence, this box of treasures was invaluable to Le. The wealth of the Rothschilds could not have bought it from him. Each precious item, as he turned it about in his hands, and kissed it again and again, was full of her magnetism.

He put on a pair of the socks, because he loved to feel them next him. He put one of the handkerchiefs in his bosom, next his heart, for the same reason. But it would take up too much time and s.p.a.ce to tell of all the Christmas offerings of that happy day.

The children had pa.s.sed the age of dolls and dolls' furniture, but they received beautiful dressing cases, with boxes and writing desks, all fitted up and exactly alike, except that brunette Wynnette's were all lined with crimson velvet or satin, and blond Elva's with blue; and they received books and trinkets suitable to their years.

Miss Meeke received a pair of gold bracelets from her pupils and a black silk dress from their parents.

Even the transient guest, Mrs. Anglesea, received from Mr. and Mrs. Force a handsome set of coral and gold jewelry that exactly suited her style and taste.

So no one was overlooked; and, when the family rea.s.sembled in the drawing room before starting for church, there ensued a gay confusion, a mirthful strife, in the mutual offering and deprecating acknowledgments. But at last they entered the carriages and drove away to All Faith.

Mr. and Mrs. Force, Odalite and Mrs. Anglesea rode in the family coach, driven by Jake; Miss Meeke and her two pupils in the buggy, driven by Wynnette, who was already a famous "whip."

The household servants rode in the break.

Le, mounted on the young horse given him by his uncle, escorted the whole party, and made himself very useful in opening gates or taking down bars for the caravan.

They all reached the church in good time. The party entered their pews without feeling any annoyance. If they were stared at, they did not know it.

The Christmas service was always a grand jubilee, deeply interesting, highly exalting, and Dr. Peters' sermon was sure to be good, cheerful and appropriate.

After the benediction, when the congregation began to disperse, the usual neighborly greetings took place in the yard.

Friends came up to wish merry Christmas and happy New Year to the Forces, and to receive the like courtesies from them. Happily, every one had the good taste to ignore the unseemly events of the previous Tuesday.

And the Force family left the churchyard more at ease than they had entered it.

The journey home was, therefore, very pleasant.

The subsequent Christmas dinner was a festival, and the dessert was prolonged with cracking nuts, making "philopena" bargains, opening sugar kisses and exchanging "verses."

It was not until after dinner that Le got a chance to speak to Odalite.

"Will you come out for a walk with me? It is not cold," he whispered, as they all left the dining room.

"Yes," she answered; "and we will go now, or it will be too late."

And she took down her brown beaver coat and poke bonnet that always hung in the hall ready for common use, and began to put them on.

Le took his overcoat and cap from the same rack, and speedily incased himself. Their gloves were in the pockets of their coats, and so they were soon ready, and in two minutes opened the hall door and left the house.

It was a fine winter twilight. The sun had just set, and the western hemisphere was all aflame with the afterglow. The moon had just risen from behind the deep blue waters of the bay, and was shining broad and full from a rosy gray sky. Though the woods were bare, and the earth was brown with winter, the scene was pleasant in its soft, subdued color and veiled brightness.

CHAPTER XL

AGAIN BY THE WINTRY SEA

"We will walk down by the sh.o.r.e; it is always pleasant there," said Le.

"Yes, let us go there. It will be too dark in the woods, but there will be moonlight on the sea and sh.o.r.e."

And they walked through the east gate, and down the wooded hill to the water side.

From an instinct of delicacy, Le turned to the south, which led in an opposite direction from his own home; but Odalite stopped him.

"Let us walk north, toward Greenbushes. We cannot go so far, because it is too late, but it will be pleasant to walk in that direction, Le," she said.

"Will it, now? To you, Odalite?" he asked, surprised and pleased, yet anxious.

"Very, very pleasant," she answered, brightly.

He turned with her at once, and had courage to ask:

"Will you take my arm, Odalite?"

She took it at once, and, when he held her hand close to his throbbing heart, she did not draw it away. What should he say to her? How should he understand her? She seemed content, and even happy, to be alone with him.

She seemed exactly as she had been before the tempter came between them--content and happy--though it had only been four days since she had been suddenly and effectually separated from the man whom she had declared that she wished to marry. She had said that no one forced her to marry him. But--did any one force her to wish to marry him? That was the question. Was his dream or vision at sea a prophetic one? Was Wynnette's and Elva's belief a true inspiration? And had Odalite, in her consent to marry Anglesea, thrown herself into the waves to escape the flames? And now that she was happily rescued from the waves, was she glad?

He looked at her again. Her face was calm and bright. And it was a true index to her mind, which was also calm and bright.

Why should it not be? She had been saved from a fate worse than death--saved from the slavery of an abhorrent marriage, she was free--with a sense of freedom that she had never fully enjoyed until she had lost her liberty and regained it. Her own and her dear mother's mortal enemy, whose presence, even on the continent, crowded her as it did Wynnette, was gone across the sea! And she knew nothing--poor child!--of the chain the man had thrown around her mother's, his victim's, neck before he went away!

Mrs. Force had never told that dread secret to her daughter. It was not necessary to do so, at least not yet, so she let Odalite recover her cheerfulness and enjoy her life, if it were only in a fool's paradise.

So Odalite reveled in a fanciful freedom, which to her was delightfully real.

Le looked at her, watched her, studied her.

Her eyes were bright with pleasure, her cheeks flushed with health, her lips smiling in mirth, her step was so light that she seemed to dance along the sands, and her voice was so fresh and cheerful that it was impossible to believe that she cherished any other feeling on the subject of her broken marriage than one of delight at her enfranchis.e.m.e.nt.

"Odalite," he said, at length, "you seem very happy."

"I am very happy," she replied, beaming.

"Then you have not the least regret for that----"

"There! Stop just there, Le, dear! Never mention that nightmare dream to me while you live!" said Odalite, in a commanding but jubilant tone.

"Well, then, I won't. Goodness knows I am not so fond of him as to want to ring the changes on his name!"