Meantime, Aunt Jane had ensconced herself behind the curtains; where she admitted no one but Miss Vincent and Uncle Reginald, and in process of time, mamma and Macrae. The others were still fully employed in garnishing the tree, though it was only to bear lights, ornaments and sweets. All solid articles had been for some time past committed to a huge box, or ottoman, the veteran companion of the family travels, which stood in the centre of the bay. Into its capacious interior everybody had been dropping parcels of various sizes and shapes, with addresses in all sorts of hands, which were to find their destination on this great evening. This was part of the mystery that kept Mysie and Valetta in one continual dance and caper. It was all they could do not to peep between the curtains when the privileged mortals went in and out, bearing all sorts of mysterious loads well covered up from all eyes. Wilfred did make one attempt, but something extraordinary snapped at his nose, with a sharp crack, and drove him back with a start. A lamp had been taken thither, and there really was nothing more to do to the tree, the scraps of packing had been picked up, and the hands, tingling from fir-needle pricks, had been washed, though not without protest from Valetta that it wasn’t worth while, and from Wilfred that it was all along of these horrid swells--! The sound of wheels summoned Lady Merrifield and her brother from the place of mystery, and they were in the hall when a fresh gust of keen air came in from the door, an ulstered figure hurried in, and something small and furred was put into the lady’s embrace. ‘Here’s my Fly, Lily--! Look, Fly, here they all are--all the cousins. Off with the hat. Let us see your funny little face.’ It was a funny little smiling face, set in short, light, wavy hair, not exactly pretty, but with a bright, quaint, confiding look, as if used to be shown off by her father, and ready to make friends on the spot. ‘And how is your boy?’ as the round of greetings was completed, and the wraps thrown off. ‘Going on capitally, better than he deserves, the young scamp, for suppressing all symptoms for fear he should be hindered from coming home. His mother was in a proper fright, she showed him to the doctor on the way, who told her to put him to bed at once, and send his sister out of the house. She never set eyes on him, or I would not have brought her here.’ ‘I am exceedingly glad you have,’ said Lady Merrifield, bending for another kiss. ‘And Lily, I’ve done another awful thing. Victoria kept old nurse to help with Ivinghoe, and we brought the Swiss bonne, Louise, away with us, but the poor thing found her sister very ill in London, and I hadn’t the heart to bring her away, so Phyllis said she would do for herself, if your maid, or some of them, would have an eye to her.’