"We never have anything so nice as that!" she sighed. "Never a bit of excitement as to how things will turn out. D'you remember the day when old Sukey mixed the lettuce with furniture cream instead of salad- dressing, and Major Denny was so polite, with a crust of bread under one end of his plate to let it drain down to the bottom, while he ate his meat high and dry at the top! 'Twas bad luck that none of us fancied lettuce that day, but kept pressing him to a second helping." "Well, we will come here to-morrow morning, then. Don't stay away from church, for, truthfully, I would rather you were out when we arrived. I have some rather--large--Christmas presents which must be smuggled in unobserved. I have some--er--preparations to make to-night, so we can't stay very long." Half an hour later husband and wife took their departure, and after seeing them off, Jack came back into the drawing-room and stood by Sylvia's couch. "Esmeralda invariably speaks before she thinks!" he said apologetically. "There's a lot of pretence about her, but you will be astonished to find out what a good sort she is when you know her better." Sylvia smiled with a whimsical twist of the lips. She thought that that prediction might apply to more than one member of the O'Shaughnessy family, and cherished a pleasant conviction that Jack's outburst of indignation had been more on her account than his own. He was not the type of man to stand on his dignity, and his quick glance into her face as Esmeralda gave her invitation had been eloquent of understanding. His protest had saved her from a most distasteful position, and once again she felt a debt of gratitude towards him. CHAPTER NINE. CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. Christmas morning was heralded by the luxury of a late breakfast, when no one need hurry off to town, and even Miles could satisfy the demands of appetite without casting a thought to the time-table. Porridge, bacon, eggs and sausages laid the foundation of his meal, before he tackled marmalade, strawberry jam, fresh oranges and honey, accompanied by numerous draughts of tea and coffee, and finally by a cup filled with the united drainings of both pots, which he drank with obvious relish. If it had been merry Pat who was so difficult to appease, there would have been no cause for astonishment, but Miles's rapt eyes and ethereal expression seemed to bespeak no stronger diet than moonbeams and mountain dew, and to hear him accompany his last mouthful with an eager, "When's lunch?" was a distinct shock to the visitor. Jack, too, had sustained a relapse into sentiment, and was only awaiting opportunity to wax melancholy and confidential. With a word of encouragement he would have stayed away from church to bear her company, but Sylvia was provokingly obtuse, and he went off looking unutterable reproaches with his "humbugging eyes."