Its smallness, its bewitching appearance, the little drawing-room with the stuffed birds and stuffed animals, the dear little dining-room, the pretty bedrooms upstairs, were invaded as though by a horde of ants. Nancy was curtsying and bobbing at the hall door. She welcomed me as though I were a very dear friend, and personally took me up herself to the identical room where I had slept before. It was just as sweet and fresh and fragrant, and the brightest of fires burned in the grate; but there was an extra bed in one corner, which in itself was disconcerting. Then Augusta appeared and flung down an ugly leather valise, which she had brought her clothes in, on the snowy white counterpane, and said, with a sigh, "Oh, wonderful--wonderful! Marvellous beyond words to express! I am here! I am here!" "Augusta," I said stoutly, "if you go on in that fashion you'll be a raving lunatic before Christmas Day is over. Now pull yourself together and be sensible. You'll never get father to talk to you if you keep on staring at him and interrupting him. We are going to have a jolly time, and to forget heroics and `high strikes' and all the rest. Oh, there's the luncheon-bell, and I'm ever so hungry!" That was a very happy evening notwithstanding the fact that the Miss Grace Donnithorne of less than a couple of months ago was now Mrs Grant and our step-mother. In her own house, surrounded by her own things, she was more difficult than ever to resist. Indeed, I think no one tried to do so, for she was the very soul of tact, and managed to make us all feel that we were her guests, and as guests ought to be particularly nice. Alex said to me, "She is quite charming! She is good! She is a dear! I'm beginning to love her. I don't care what you say to the contrary." "I like her for herself," I said. "Then for goodness' sake prove it, Dumps, and don't wear that horridly starched, proper face. It's enough to drive any one cracked even to look at you. You were always plain, but now that you are both plain and affected, you will be too offensive to live with before long." "Thank you," I answered. "I never did come to my family for compliments, and I certainly am not getting them." "You won't get them from me, or from Charley, or from Von Marlo while you behave like that. Why, I declare I'd rather be that poor, demented Augusta Moore than go on as you are doing." "But what am I doing?" I asked. "What do you mean? I'm doing nothing." "Nothing, Dumps? Be truthful with yourself. Try and get over that horrid feeling, and let us be really happy this Christmas." "But there was our mother--" "She wasn't with us last Christmas, was she?" "She was in spirit."