The squire had reached home first, and was standing at the door to meet them, his large rosy face all smiles. There was a roaring, leaping fire in the hall, and its trophies of chase and war were wreathed and crowned with fir and box and holly. Branches of mistletoe hung above the doors and the hearth-stone; and all the rooms were equally bright. The servants tripped about in their best clothes, the men with bits of hawthorn berries and box on their breast, the women with sprigs of mistletoe. There was the happiest sense of good humor and good-will, the far-away echo of laughter, the tinkling of glass and china and silver, the faint delicious aroma, through opening doors, of plentiful good cheer. "Whativer kept you so long, dearies? Run away and don yourselves, and make yourselves gay and fine. Christmas comes but once a year. And don't keep dinner waiting; mind that now! T' rector's here, and if there's any thing that puts him about, it's waiting for his dinner." "We asked Mr. North, father; he will be here soon." "I'm uncommon glad you asked him. Go your ways and get your best frocks on. I'll go to t' door to meet him." In about an hour the girls came down together, Phyllis in a pale gray satin, with delicate edgings of fine lace. It fitted her small form to perfection, close to the throat, close to the wrists, and it had about it a slight but charming touch of puritanism. There was a white japonica in her hair, and a flame-colored one at her throat, and these were her only ornaments. Elizabeth wore a plain robe of dark blue velvet, cut, as was the fashion in those days, to show the stately throat and shoulders. Splendid bracelets were on her arms, and one row of large white pearls encircled her throat. She looked like a queen, and Phyllis wished Richard could have seen her. "She'll be a varry proper mistress o' Hallam-Croft," thought the squire, with a passing sigh. But--his eyes dwelt with delight upon Phyllis. "Eh!" he said, "but thou art a bonny lass! T' flowers that bloom for thee to wear are t' happiest flowers that blow, I'll warrant thee." After dinner the squire and his daughter went to the servants' hall to drink "loving cup" at their table, and to give their Christmas gifts. The rector, in the big chair he loved, sat smoking his long pipe. Mr. North, with a face full of the sweetest serenity and pleasure, sat opposite, his thin white hands touching each other at all their finger tips, and his clear eyes sometimes resting on the blazing fire, and sometimes drifting away to the face of Phyllis, or to that of the rector. "You have been making people happy all day, Mr. North?" "Yes; it has been a good day to me. I had twelve pounds to give away. They made twelve homes very happy. I don't often have such a pleasure." "I have noticed, Mr. North," said the rector, "that you do very little pastoral visiting." "That is not my duty." "I think it a very important part of my duty." "You are right. It is. You are a pastor."