Englishmen at the merry season. Everybody
shook hands with everybody else, everybody cried "Merry Christmas!" to
his neighbour in the street, with an intonation as though he were saying
something startlingly new and brilliant which had never been said before.
Every labourer who had a new smock-frock put it on, and those who had
none had at least a bit of new red worsted comforter about their throats
and began the day by standing at their doors in the cold morning, smoking
a "ha'p'orth o' shag" in a new clay pipe, greeting each other across the
village street. Muggins, who had spent a portion of the night in
exchanging affectionate Christmas wishes with the tombstones in the
churchyard, appeared fresh and ruddy at an early hour, clad in the long
black coat and tall hat which he was accustomed to wear when he drove Mr.
Boosey's fly on great festivals. Most of the cottages in the single
street sported a bit of holly in their windows, and altogether the
appearance of Billingsfield was singularly festive and mirthful. At
precisely ten minutes to eleven the vicar and Mrs. Ambrose, accompanied
by John, issued from the vicarage and went across the road by the private
path to the church. As they entered the porch Mr. Reid, who stood
solemnly tolling the small bell, popularly nicknamed the "Ting-tang,"
and of which the single rope passed down close to the south door,
vouchsafed John a sour smile of recognition. John felt as though he had
come home. Mrs. Goddard and Nellie appeared a moment afterwards and took
their seats in the pew traditionally belonging to the cottage, behind
that of the squire who was always early, and the sight of whose smoothly
brushed hair and brown beard was a constant source of satisfaction to
Mrs. Ambrose. John and Mrs. Ambrose sat on the opposite side of the
aisle, but John's eyes strayed very frequently towards Mrs. Goddard; so
frequently indeed that she noticed it and leaned far back in her seat to
avoid his glance. Whereupon John blushed and felt that the vicar, who was
reading the Second Lesson, had probably noticed his distraction. It was
hard to realise that two years and a half had passed since he had sat in
that same pew; perhaps, however, the presence of Mrs. Goddard helped him
to understand the lapse of time. But for her it would have been very
hard; for the vicar's voice sounded precisely as it used to sound; Mrs.
Ambrose had not lost her habit of removing one glove and putting it into
her pray