slumber, he awoke suddenly with the impression
that Bessie was frozen to death in the next room, and that Grey Jerrold
was trying to bring her to life and calling her his darling.

Altogether it was a bad night for Neil, and he was glad when Anthony
came in and he knew he might get up. And thus it chanced that he was
first in the dining-room, where he sat, gloomily regarding the fire,
when Grey came in, followed in a moment by Bessie, whose sweet girlish
lips, as she bade merry Christmas to the young men, did not look as if
they could ever have emitted the sounds which were still ringing in
Neil's ears, and making him shudder a little.

"Oh, Mr. Jerrold," she said to Grey after the morning greetings were
over, "didn't you almost freeze last night in that cold north room? I
thought of you when I was awake and heard the wind howl so dismally."

"Never slept better in my life, I assure you; and I was far better
pleased with the cold room than I should have been with the warm one,"
Grey replied.

"Wha-at!" Neil exclaimed. "Did _you_ occupy the north room adjoining
mine?"

"Yes," was Grey's reply; and crossing the hearth swiftly to where Bessie
stood, Neil kissed her twice, as he said.

"I am so glad!"

If Grey occupied the room, then it was Grey who snored, and not Bessie,
who again went into the scales with the ten thousand a year, and who
looked up surprised, and a little displeased at this salute before a
stranger.

Grey had wondered when he ought to present his Christmas gift, and
glanced around the room to see if Neil's was visible; but it was not,
and he concluded to wait the progress of events.

Breakfast was late that morning, for Dorothy's rheumatic feet and ankles
were worse than usual, and locomotion was difficult and painful; but
with Bessie's assistance it was ready at last, and the family were just
seating themselves at the table when there was the sound of a vehicle
outside, with voices, and a great stamping of feet, as some one entered
at the side piazza and came toward the dining-room.

"Mother; it must be mother," Bessie cried, but Neil had recognized a
voice he knew, and said, a little curtly:

"It is not your mother; it is Jack Trevellian," and in a moment Jack
stood in the room, brushing the snow from his coat, and wishing them a
merry Christmas as he shook hands with each in turn.

"Hallo, Jerrold, and Mack, you both here? This is a surprise!" he said,
as he saw the two young men, and so