Nothing in Mr. Lobyer's manner on this particular twenty-fifth of December betrayed the faintest sympathy with those genial emotions common to the vulgar at this season of the year. He appeared in the drawing-room about five minutes before dinner, faultlessly attired in evening costume, and carrying his familiar--a fawn-coloured pug--in one of his big strong hands. Cecil found her host leaning against one of the mantelpieces, in his accustomed attitude, and caressing this brute, with a moody countenance, when she entered the drawing-room. He did the honours of the dinner-table in his usually graceful manner; and those amiable people who were never weary of sounding their host's praises in his character of a rough diamond, found him peculiarly delightful this evening; he was so quaint, so original, they said to each other confidentially, as the millionaire let fall some cynical remark now and then in the course of the banquet. He seemed very glad to get back to the fawn-coloured familiar, which was snoring peacefully, half-buried in a fleecy rug, when the gentlemen returned to the drawing-room. He lifted the animal by one ear, and retired with it into the depths of an easy-chair, whence might be heard occasional growlings and snappings as the evening proceeded. "I am afraid that grey shirtings were not lively," Florence whispered to Cecil, as the two ladies were preparing themselves for a duet. At ten o'clock those splendid creatures, the matched footmen, were summoned to wheel the _jardinières_ and _étagères_ away from the centre of the room, while Lady Cecil and a young masculine pianist seated themselves at the instrument to play quadrilles and waltzes for a carpet-dance. It was at the same hour that Mr. Lobyer emerged from the depths of his easy-chair, flung the fawn-coloured animal into a corner, and walked towards one of the doors. "Come and have a smoke in the billiard-room, Chapman," he said to one of his commercial friends, a bald-headed, warm-looking man, of whom the county people never took the faintest notice. Departing with this gentleman in his wake, Mr. Lobyer was seen no more among his guests that evening; and the carpet-dance went merrily; and a million stars shone brightly over Pevenshall out of a frosty blue sky, while midnight melted into morning; and the belle of the great drawing-room was bright, fair-haired, coquettish little Mrs. Lobyer. But the Christmas night came and went, and the bride of six months had no loving husband to take her hands in his and say, "God bless you, my darling, on this night above all nights of the year, and in all the days and nights to come!" * * * * * Sir Nugent Evershed made his appearance before luncheon on the twenty-sixth of December, with Scribe's comedy in his hand, much to the astonishment of his Cousin Grace. "Jeffs must have been very rapid," she said. "He generally keeps me longer when I send for any thing."