s usual; for the disappointment had been severe. Roger had
telegraphed that he would be with them that afternoon without fail; and
now all the trains had come and gone, and no Roger had come. All the
Merryweathers were crying out, and saying that some tiresome man of
science must have captured him, and carried him off. Hildegarde was only
a little more silent than usual; she slipped quietly into the
drawing-room, and took her seat by Mr. Raymond Ferrers, whose smile
always seemed like a kind of sublimated music,--music that soothed while
it cheered. But when she saw her little Hugh, with his pale face, and
the suffering look in his dear blue eyes, she reproached herself for a
selfish, unloving girl, and went and sat with her arm round the child,
looking affectionately and anxiously at him, and listening to his story
of the joy of the blessed day.

"And Gerald?" now cried the Colonel. "Am I to be robbed of half my
guests, I ask you? Mrs. Merryweather, my dear madam, this is positively
unfriendly, I must inform you. A Christmas Tree without Gerald
Merryweather,--the idea is incongruous! I can say nothing more."

"Oh, Colonel Ferrers, that is my fault!" cried Hildegarde. "Gerald will
be here in a moment; he ought to be here now, indeed. I very carelessly
forgot something,--a little parcel that I wanted to bring,--and Gerald
was so kind as to go back for it."

"Quite right, my child!" said the Colonel. "Of course you sent him!
Preposterous if you had done anything else." He bustled off, and
Hildegarde turned to look out of the window; for truth to tell, the
parcel that she had left behind contained a little gift for the Colonel
himself (it was a copy of "Underwoods." Hildegarde would have given
copies of "Underwoods" to all her friends, if she could have afforded
it), and she wanted to catch the first glimpse of Gerald. How long he
was in coming! They were lighting the candles, Hugh whispered her; Jack
and Mr. Raymond Ferrers and Mr. Merryweather were to light them as soon
as the party was assembled. Gerald was wanted to take the second tenor
in the carol. Why had she been so careless? Ah! there he was at last!

Hildegarde ran out to the porch, to receive the precious parcel.

"Oh," she cried, "how long you have been, child! I thought you would
never come!"

"So did I," said a voice that certainly did not belong to Gerald, "but
that is no reason why you should be out here with nothing on your head,
and the thermometer