‘Yes, if kindred in a general way could meet without quarrelling. That there should be a good deal done for the poor at Christmas I can understand and approve. It is the central point of winter; and then there is the Divine association which beautifies every gift. And that children should look forward to Christmas as an extra birthday in every nursery is a pretty fancy enough. But that men and women of the world should foregather and pretend to be fonder of one another on that day than at any other season is too hollow a sham for my patience.’ Madoline wrote a friendly invitation to Mrs. Turchill, and gave her note to Edgar to carry home that evening. ‘It’s awfully good of you,’ he said ruefully, when she told him the purport of her letter, ‘but I’m afraid it won’t answer. Mother stands on her dignity about Christmas Day; and I don’t think wild horses would drag her away from her own dining-room. I shall have to dine _tête-à-tête_ with her, poor old dear; and we shall sit staring at the oak panelling, and pretending to enjoy the plum-pudding made according to the old lady’s own particular recipe handed down by her grandmother. There has been an agreeable sameness about our Christmas dinner for the last ten years. It is as solemn as a Druidical sacrifice. I could almost fancy that mother had been out in the woods at daybreak cutting mistletoe with a golden sickle.’ Edgar was correct in his idea of his mother’s reply. Mrs. Turchill wrote with much ceremony and politeness that, delighted as she and her son would have been to accept so gratifying an invitation, she must on principle reluctantly decline it. She never had dined away from her own house on Christmas Day, and she never would. She considered it a day upon which families should gather round their own firesides, etc., etc., etc., and remained, with affectionate regards, etc. ‘How can a family of two gather round the fireside?’ asked Edgar dolefully. ‘The dear old mother writes rank nonsense.’ ‘Don’t be down-hearted, Turchill,’ said Gerald. ‘Perhaps by Christmas twelvemonth you may be a family of three; and the year after that a family of four; and the year after that, five. Who knows? Time brings all good things.’ ‘I am just as grateful to you, Madoline, as if mother had accepted,’ said Edgar, ignoring his friend’s speech, though he blushed at its meaning. ‘It will be ineffably dreary. If the old lady should go to bed extra early—she sometimes does on Christmas Day—I might ride over, just—just——’ ‘In time for a rattling good game of billiards,’ interjected Gerald. ‘Lina and I are improving. You and Daphne needn’t give us more than twenty-five in fifty.’ ‘I’ll have a horse ready saddled. Mother likes me to read some of the verses in the “Christian Year” to her after tea. I’m afraid I’m not a good reader, for Keble and I always send her to sleep.’ ‘Be particularly monotonous on this occasion,’ said Daphne, ‘and come over in time for a match.’