brother's past doings, and on future
schemes for Maplewood. For the rest, he restored to the house the
atmosphere of boy, which had somewhat departed with Harry. Mary, who had
begun to be tamed down, ran more wild than ever, to the utter despair
of Miss Winter; and Tom, now that his connection with the Whichcote
foundation was over, and he was no more cowed by the sight of his
tyrants, came out in a new light. He put on his boy-nature, rioted
like the rest, acquired colour in his cheeks, divested his jacket of
perpetual dust, had his hair cut, brushed up a crest on his head, and
ran about no longer a little abject, but a merry lad.

Ethel said it was a change from Horrid-locks to Harfagre; Margaret said
little, but, like her father, she blessed Norman in her heart for having
given back the boy to his father's confidence, and saved him so far from
the terrible course of deceit and corruption. She could not much take
to heart the mad exploits of the so-called boys, even though she spent
three hours in heart-beatings on Christmas Eve, when Hector, Mary, Tom,
Blanche, and the dog Toby, were lost the whole day. However, they did
come back at six o'clock, having been deluded by an old myth of George
Larkins, into starting for a common, three miles beyond Cocksmoor, in
search of mistletoe, with scarlet berries, and yellow holly, with
leaves like a porcupine! Failing these wonders, they had been contenting
themselves with scarlet holly, in the Drydale plantations, when a rough
voice exclaimed, "Who gave you leave to take that?" whereupon Tom had
plunged into a thicket, and nearly "scratched out both his eyes"; but
Hector boldly standing his ground, with Blanche in his hand, the woodman
discovered that here was the Miss Mary, of whom his little girls talked
so much, thereupon cut down the choicest boughs, and promised to leave
a full supply at Dr. May's. Margaret could have been angry at the taking
the young ladies on so mad a scheme, but then Mary was so happy, and as
to Hector, how scold him, when he had lifted Blanche over every
ditch, and had carried her home one mile on his back, and another,
queen's-cushion fashion, between him and Mary?

Flora, meanwhile, went her own way. The desire of compensating for
what had passed with Norman, led to great civilities from Dr. and Mrs.
Hoxton, which nobody was at liberty to receive except Flora. Pretty,
graceful, and pleasing, she was a valuable companion to a gentle little,
inane l