d
themselves round the cart. Miss Simpson struck up, and through the keen
night air rang out the cheerful strains of "Christians, awake!" The
Holmes family opened the door in quite a state of excitement, and
listened with much appreciation while "Good King Wenceslas", "The First
Nowell", and other old carols were sung. They insisted on bringing the
party indoors for slices of Yule cake, and would have given them hot
coffee as well, but Monty, who wished to visit other houses, declared
they had not time to wait while it was made. So they tramped on to the
James's farm, where they had an equally hearty reception, and were
regaled with cocoa, currant bread, and cheese.

It was a unique experience, trudging along country lanes with a cart and
lanterns, with hoar-frost under foot, and a few stars winking in a misty
sky, then standing in the cold night air to sing their carols. Diana
felt that she could never forget it, and that the shrill voice of little
Jack Greenhalgh warbling

"Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!
Born is the King of Israel!"

would always be associated with her idea of Christmas.

She had her fill of old-world customs, for she was allowed, by special
favour, to go into the belfry and help for one brief minute to pull a
bell. And after service on Christmas morning she stood in the church
porch and watched the distribution of the "roth shillings", which, in
accordance with the terms of an old charity, were handed over to "twelve
worthy widows resident within the bounds of the parish". She helped in
the afternoon at the schools, where a big tea-party and Christmas-tree
were given to the children of the village, and joined nobly in the games
that were played afterwards, tearing round at "Drop the Handkerchief",
or pulling at "Oranges and Lemons", with unflagging energy.

"Have you had a nice Christmas Day, childie, away from all your own
people?" asked Mrs. Fleming, holding Diana's face between her hands as
she said good-night, and looking at her critically for signs of
home-sickness.

But Diana's eyes were without a suspicion of moisture, and her voice was
absolutely cheerful as she answered:

"Yes, thanks; just topping!"

CHAPTER X

A Fit of the Blues

The interest of experiencing a real old-fashioned English Christmas had
kept Diana's spirits up at fizzling-over point, but directly the
festival was over, her mental barometer came down with a run, and landed
her in a bad fit of the blu