It is fair to say that the gentleman so far lost his presence of mind for some minutes thereafter, as to be justly chargeable with what is called _absence_. He scarcely answered the observations addressed to him, and made several on his own account without very well knowing what he was talking about. And so, for a little, if Time "gallopped" up stairs, he went rather slowly, with one or two at least, in the drawing-room. Dr. Arthur presently drew off from the views and took position again by the mantel-piece,—probably to hear the Christmas wind, which was very musical just then. And probably the doctor's thoughts too wandered off; for after a while he took a pair of white gloves from his pocket and began abstractedly to fit them on. 'Arthur!' said Mrs. Coles severely, whose eyes were never known to be off duty,—'what can you be about?' 'That's the way some people do,' said Rollo after a quick glance; 'they are never ready for an occasion till the occasion is half over.' 'But what is the "occasion"?' said Mrs. Coles. 'Christmas day at Chickaree—dinner—and, Arthur seems to think, ceremony.' 'Look at Arthur, Prim,' said her sister. 'It is a leisure moment,' said Dr. Arthur fastening a button,—'and I so seldom have leisure in which to try on new gloves. One of the minor comforts of life, is having your gloves fit.' And Dr. Arthur glanced at Dane from under his brows, and went back to his other glove and the Christmas wind again. 'I declare,' said Prudentia, 'I think you are very unceremonious!' 'Extremes meet,—here as often elsewhere,' replied Dane. 'But what have you been getting new white gloves for, Arthur?' asked his younger sister. 'They look better than old ones, Prim,—when they fit.' 'Has Molly Seaton sent you cards for her wedding?' 'I dare say.—What about it?' 'She hasn't,—nor anybody else,' said Rollo. 'Useless things'—said Dr. Arthur. 'I am glad they have not come.'