After thinking a few minutes, Win drew out his notebook and made a careful copy. Surely that was not abusing Max's hospitality and could do no harm. If he discovered anything interesting in looking up the matter in some history of Jersey at the public library, he would share his knowledge. Or there surely must be books of that kind here at the Manor. Perhaps he would be permitted to come again and investigate this fascinating room more thoroughly. He wished he knew Max better. If he only did, he could show his find at once and ask for an opinion. Well, that might come later.

Anyway, it would be great fun to study the enigmatic paper and see what he could make of it.

When Max came quietly a few minutes later, Win made no mention of his discovery. Surprised to find it so late, he thanked his host, and declared himself entirely fit to walk back to Rose Villa.

"Come again," said Max as they parted at the gates. "I know you liked the library and that will please Uncle d.i.c.k. You must come when he's at home and he'll show you all his special treasures."

Win went on with a happy face. That meant he would certainly have another opportunity to browse in that fascinating old book-room, and perhaps become so well acquainted with the Manor family that he could share his puzzle with somebody who would be equally interested in finding out what it meant.

CHAPTER IX

CHRISTMAS IN JERSEY

Fran's "happiest day" soon dawned, for not long after the Orgueil picnic, she and Edith were walking down one of Jersey's lovely lanes. Enclosed by high ivy-covered earthen banks, it ran, a straight white road between green walls, and so narrow that at regular intervals, little bays were provided that carriages might pa.s.s. Evergreen oaks, often growing from the banks themselves, and drooping vines made the lane a bower of beauty even on a December afternoon. The girls had stopped to admire the old Norman gateway leading to Vinchelez Manor, when suddenly around a corner, bounced the beach dog. Close behind came Constance Lisle and Maxfield Hamilton.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE OLD NORMAN GATEWAY LEADING TO VINCHELEZ MANOR]

"We've been to call on your respective mother and sister,"

declared Connie, "and were desolated not to find the little ladies.

What luck to meet you! Max, you don't need an introduction, do you, after playing Lord Lochinvar with both girlsat once?"

At this sweeping characterization, they all laughed and walked along together, Tylo galloping ahead or falling behind as his sweet will led.

"I'm giving a treat to the Sunday-school children after Christmas," Connie confided, as at the end of a brisk walk, they came to the parting of the ways. "I should like you girls, if you will, to help me with the kiddies. The brothers are invited too, if they would fancy it."

"Win would like to help," Frances said quickly, her face lighted with pleasure at this request. "He's very good at things like that, but Roger's only twelve, you know."

"Oh, Roger can hand buns," said Connie at once. "No harm if he does tread on a few. I shall count on you then next week Thursday, three days after Christmas. Take care not to stir abroad on Christmas eve for that's when the Jersey witches hold their meeting at the rock up by St. Clement's."

She waved a laughing adieu and the girls went back to Rose Villa, bubbling over with pleasure and antic.i.p.ation.

It was fortunate for Frances that she did have this expectation of a visit to the Manor to buoy her spirits, for the season scarcely seemed Christmas. Warm weather and plentiful flowers did not appeal to one accustomed to the holiday in wintry Boston, but not the weather alone disturbed Fran. For some foolish reason she disliked intensely the differences of celebration that marked this holiday in another land. Her state of mind both worried and distressed Mrs. Thayne.

"Why, little daughter, don't you see the fun of having Christmas under strange conditions?" she asked one evening, when she went to investigate a sound of woe from Fran's room.

"No, I don't see any fun in it," replied Frances stubbornly. "I could stand Thanksgiving, even though I had to go to school, because Miss Estelle knew it was an important day to us and had a turkey for dinner and put little American flags around. But Christmas here in St. Aubin's, without Father, is too impossible."

Mrs. Thayne was silent for a moment. Then she sat down on the bed and took Frances in her arms.

"Listen, now," she said. "I want you to think about somebody else for a moment. There's Edith. Just remember how sad this season must be for her and Estelle. Yet Estelle goes about with a smiling face that gives me a heartache because her eyes are so pitiful.

She's planning hard to make things pleasant for us and to have it seem Christmas to Edith. I know some of her plans, Fran. Then, even if Father isn't with us, we know he is well and that it is only a question of time before the _Philadelphia_ is where we can be nearer. Win is always self-controlled and naturally he and Roger don't miss the home conditions as you do, but their enjoyment is going to depend largely upon their sister. Why, Fran, you usually like new experiences and here they are looming thick and fast."

"That's just the trouble," sobbed Fran. "I don't want them all piled on top of Christmas. I want to be with Grandmother and the cousins. I can't believe it is Christmas when it's so green and so hot."

"Many nice things are going to happen," her mother went on. "Just think what fun you and Edith will have helping Miss Connie with her school treat. You are going to find that very English."

Frances smiled. "Oh, I won't be a pig, Mother," she said at last.

"Miss Connie is a dear and of course we must make the boys have a nice time."

"The climate agrees so well with Win that I am very thankful to spend Christmas here," replied Mrs. Thayne. "To-morrow, Nurse is going into town to the French market and I think you will like to go with her."

Win and Edith joined the marketing expedition next morning and even Frances was impressed with the holiday spirit overhanging the place. They left Nurse carefully inspecting fat geese in a poulterer's stall and started to explore.

Any number of plump chickens and ducks hung about, together with little pigs decorated by blue rosettes on their ears, a touch that struck Win as extremely funny. In the vegetable market were heaped huge piles of potatoes, scrubbed till their pink skins shone, great ropes of red onions braided together by their dried tops, turnips, artichokes, garlic, winter squashes, white and purple cabbages, celery and egg plant and many varieties of greens and early vegetables. The stalls themselves were prettily arranged and fragrant with nice smells but their keepers were the great attraction. Many were in charge of old women dressed in white peasant caps and clean starched ap.r.o.ns above full wool skirts and wooden sabots. Little tow-headed grandchildren, comical replicas in miniature, smiled shyly or dropped bobbing curtsys as the girls stopped to speak.

Fruit stalls proved even more fascinating with the hothouse grapes, red, white, and dark purple, showing a hazy bloom. Fresh figs and dates abounded, alternating with baskets of Italian chestnuts and oranges, forty for a shilling. Every stall seemed to have vied in decorations with its neighbor, being bowers of myrtle and laurestinus. One sported a shield showing three leopards in daffodils against a green background.

"Look at the English coat of arms," said Frances, catching sight of it.

"That's not English," said Edith. "Those are the leopards of Jersey, the old Norman insignia."

"I can't understand," observed Frances as they sauntered on, "why, when Jersey belongs to England, it has a different coat of arms and government and everything."

"Because the islands are all little self-governing communities,"

supplied Win. "It's a privilege they have always had, and even England wouldn't dare take it from them now. Jersey is desperately jealous of Guernsey. They say that even a Jersey toad will die if it is taken to Guernsey."

"Neither will Guernsey flowers blossom here," Edith added. "Oh, there's Miss Connie!"

The little lady of Laurel Manor was standing before one of the flower-stalls, chatting in French with a very clean, rosy-cheeked old woman in a white cap. Behind Constance stood a servant carrying a basket and as the girls watched she purchased an enormous bunch of daffodils, a sheaf of calla lilies, and a quant.i.ty of narcissus.

"Isn't she sweet in that soft green suit," commented Edith admiringly.

Turning from the stall, Connie saw and hailed them. "Have you seen the fish-market?" she asked after greeting them gayly. "Oh, you must not miss that. I always go there."

She led them past a long bench where sat several nice white-capped old women beside huge baskets of spotlessly washed eggs or round rolls of fresh, unsalted b.u.t.ter wrapped in cool green cabbage leaves. Some of them nodded and smiled and once Connie stopped to ask after a sick child. Everybody spoke in French and seemed most kind and cordial.

Arrived at the fish-market, conger eels as big as Win's wrist, and four or five feet long, crabs two feet across the sh.e.l.ls, lobsters blue rather than green, enormous scallops, huge stacks of oysters, c.o.c.kles and snails, the so-called winkles, greeted the astonished eyes of the young people. In other directions were heaped piles of smelts, plaice and unknown fish.

"These are what I dote on," said Constance, calling their attention to piles of tiny crabs, neatly tied by the claws into bunches. Most were alive, but owing to the fact that all chose to walk in different directions, the bunches remained fairly stationary. One might purchase two, four, six or a dozen, according to the size of one's appet.i.te.

"I'm so glad we met," said Connie, when in addition they had made the round of the flower market and exclaimed over its treasures of color and fragrance. "I thought of you this morning and wondered if you young people wouldn't like to help decorate the church.

There are never too many helpers and we have ordered such lovely greens and flowers. Several of us are to be at the church at two this afternoon and you'll be very welcome if you care to come.

It's pretty work and we always have a nice time."

"Indeed, we should like to help," said Frances promptly. "Is it Mr. Angus's church at St. Aubin's?"

"No, the one I mean is a tiny stone church not far beyond the Manor. Just take the highroad inland from the village and turn once to the left,"

"Oh, I know," said Win quickly. "It stands almost on the sh.o.r.e."

"That's it," said Connie. "I'll expect you then."

Win declared himself quite equal to helping with the decorations that afternoon. When they arrived, the beach dog lay in the porch, thumping his tail by way of welcome, so they knew his mistress was already within. For a few moments, the three lingered to look at the quaint French inscriptions on the churchyard stones, but finally entered rather shyly. They were not given one moment to feel themselves strangers.

"I'm delighted to see you," exclaimed Constance, coming down the aisle with a long vine trailing after. "So glad you came. Rose,"

she called to a pretty young girl working near by, "here are some helpers for your windows. Oh, you know Rose LeCroix, don't you?