“Yes, sir,” said Jack, modestly. “Come with me,” said the Doctor, motioning to Jack to follow him out of the room. Jack obeyed, trying to wink at us as he went, to show that he didn’t care for what was going to happen. But it was rather an unhappy wink. The rest of us waited in great suspense for about ten minutes, wondering what would be done to Jack, and if we ourselves would escape punishment. A sudden damper had been cast on our mirth. We all knew the Doctor’s cane too well to feel happy while we were expecting to have an interview with it At length the Doctor came back, and made us a speech:— “I am very sorry to find, boys, that you have been resorting to deception of this kind. If you had known something which I wished to be a surprise for you, I don’t think you would have cared to take all this trouble on the sly. Come here with me, all of you.” We followed him, looking at each other in surprise, and quite unable to make out what he meant. Was he angry with us? Was he going to punish us? Was he taking us to his study, which was to Upton House what the torture-chamber was to the Tower of London! No; he led the way past the study door, and over the hall, and into his private dining-room, at the door of which we all hung back, like a brood of chickens, reluctant to follow into the pond the duck that has hatched them. “Come along,” said the Doctor, encouraging us; and, taking courage to venture inside, we saw the table spread out for dinner, and the sideboard loaded with apples, oranges, and nuts. “We are just going to dine,” said the Doctor, in the same grave voice, but with a merry twinkle in his eye. “Mrs. Lickemwell and I had intended to ask you to take your Christmas dinner with us—it is a pity we did not issue our invitation sooner. However, if you think you could eat a little bit, although you have dined, perhaps you will sit down and join us. You see Somers has kindly consented to favour us with his company.” We looked at the Doctor, and at the table, and at each other, in perfect amazement. Was the Doctor speaking seriously? We felt quite uncomfortable. But there was that cool fish, Jack Somers, sitting at the head of the table, beside Mrs. Lickemwell, making himself agreeable, and grinning at us like a porpoise. Seeing our perplexity, the Doctor burst into a laugh, and cried out— “Poor fellows! Did you really think we weren’t going to give you a Christmas dinner? We meant it to be a surprise, but perhaps I should have told you, and then we shouldn’t have had you wasting your money on bad pastry, and bothering Mr. Porbury with your culinary operations. Well, we’ll say no more about it, but sit down and see if you can’t find room for another dinner.”