in your hand!'
'It struck me whether you had rendered this Spanish story right.'
'Of course not. I never stuck to my dictionary.'
A sound dose of criticism ensued, tempered by repetitions of his father's pleasure, and next came some sympathy and discussion about the farm and Marksedge, in which the ladies took their usual earnest part, and Mary was as happy as ever in hearing of his progress. He said no word of their neighbours; but he could not help colouring when Mary said, as he wished her good-bye, 'We like the party in the House Beautiful so much! Miss Conway is such an acquisition to me! and they are doing all you could ever have wished for Clara.'
Mary was glad that she had said it. Louis was not so glad. He thought it must have been an effort, then derided his vanity for the supposition.
CHAPTER XVI. THE FRUIT OF THE CHRISTMAS-TREE
Age, twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers, And call a train of laughing hours; And bid them dance, and bid them sing: And thou, too, mingle in the ring. WORDSWORTH
The 12th of January was the last day before James and Louis meant to return to Oxford, Jem taking Clara on from thence to school. It was to be the farewell to Christmas-one much enjoyed in Dynevor Terrace. Fitzjocelyn's absence was almost a relief to Clara; she could not make up her mind to see him till she could hope their last encounter had been forgotten; and in the mean time, her anticipations were fixed on the great 12th. She was aware of what the entertainment would consist, but was in honour bound to conceal her knowledge from Virginia and Louisa, who on their side affected great excitement and curiosity, and made every ostentation of guessing and peeping. Gifts were smuggled into the house from every quarter-some to take their chance, some directed with mottoes droll or affectionate. Clara prepared a few trifles, in which she showed that school had done something for her fingers, and committed her little parcels to her brother's care; and Miss Mercy was the happiest of all, continually knocking at the locked door of the back drawing-room with gilded fir cones, painted banners, or moss birds'-nests, from Miss Salome.
Miss King and Isabel had undertaken the main business. When roused from her pensive stillness, Isabel could be very eager, active, and animated; and she worked with the exhilaration that she could freely enjoy when unrestrained by perceiving that she was wanted to produce an effect. What woman's height and hand could not perform fell to the share of James, who, with his step-ladder and dexterous hands, was invaluable. Merrily, merrily did the three work, laughing over their suspended bonbons, their droll contrivances, or predicting the adaptations of their gifts; and more and more gay was the laugh, the tutor more piquant, the governess more keen and clever, the young lady more vivacious, as the twilight darkened, and the tree became more laden, and the streamers and glass balls produced a more brilliant effect.
Proudly, when the task was accomplished, did they contemplate their work, and predict the aspect of their tinsel and frippery when duly lighted up. Then, as they dispersed to dress, James ran home, and hastily tapped at his sister's door.
'What is the matter?' she cried. 'Have the tassels come off my purse?'
'Nothing of the kind, but-' he came quite in, and looked round restlessly, then hastily said, 'You gave me nothing for Miss Conway.'
'I wished it very much,' said Clara, 'but I could not bear to do anything trumpery for her. Oh, if one could give her anything worth having!'
'Clara, I had thought-but I did not know if you would like to part with it-'
'I had thought of it too,' said Clara; 'but I thought you would not like it to be given away.'
Pulling out a drawer, she opened an odd little box of queer curiosities, whence she took a case containing an exquisite ivory carving, a copy of the 'Madonna della Sedia,' so fine that a magnifier alone could fully reveal the delicacy and accuracy of the features and expression. It was mounted as a bracelet clasp, and was a remnant of poor Mr. Dynevor's treasures. It had been given to Mrs. Henry Frost, and had descended to her daughter.
'Should you be willing?' wistfully asked James.
'That I should! I have longed to give her what she would really care for. She has been so very kind-and her kindness is so very sweet in its graciousness! I shall always be the happier for the very thinking of it.'
'I am glad-' began Jem, warmly; but, breaking off, he added-'This would make us all more comfortable. It would lessen the weight of obligation, and that would be satisfactory to you.'
'I don't know. I like people to be so kind, that I can't feel as if I would pay them off, but as if I could do nothing but love them.'
'You did not imagine that I rate this as repayment!'
'Oh! no, no!'
'No! it is rather that nothing can be too precious-' then pausing- 'You are sure you are willing, Clary?'
'Only too glad. I like it to be something valuable to us as well as in itself. If I only had a bit of black velvet, I could set it up.'
In ten minutes, Jem had speeded to a shop and back again, and stood by as Clara stitched the clasp to the ribbon velvet; while there was an amicable dispute, he insisting that the envelope should bear only the initials of the true donor, and she maintaining that 'he gave the black velvet.' She had her way, and wrote, 'From her grateful C. F. D. and J. R. F. D.;' and as James took the little packet, he thanked her with an affectionate kiss-a thing so unprecedented at an irregular hour, that Clara's heart leapt up, and she felt rewarded for any semblance of sacrifice.
He told his grandmother that he had agreed with his sister that they could do no otherwise than present the ivory clasp; and Mrs. Frost, who had no specially tender associations with it, was satisfied to find that they had anything worth offering on equal terms.
She was to be of the party, and setting forth, they, found the House Beautiful upside down-even the Faithfull parlour devoted to shawls and bonnets, and the two good old sisters in the drawing-room; Miss Salome, under the protection of little Louisa, in an easy chair, opposite the folding doors. Small children were clustered in shy groups round their respective keepers. Lady Conway was receiving her guests with the smile so engaging at first sight, Isabel moving from one to the other with stately grace and courtesy, Virginia watching for Clara, and both becoming merged in a mass of white skirts and glossy heads, occupying a wide area. Mrs. Frost was rapturously surrounded by half-a-dozen young men, Sydney Calcott foremost, former pupils enchanted to see her, and keeping possession of her all the rest of the evening. She was a dangerous person to invite, for the Northwold youth had no eyes but for her.
The children were presently taken down to tea in the dining-room by Miss King and Miss Mercy; and presently a chorus of little voices and peals of laughter broke out, confirming the fact, whispered by Delaford to his lady, that Lord Fitzjocelyn had arrived, and had joined the downstairs party.
While coffee went round in the drawing-room, Isabel glided out to perform the lighting process.
'Oh, Mr. Dynevor!' she exclaimed, finding him at her side, 'I did not mean to call you away.'
'Mere unreason to think of the performance alone,' said James, setting up his trusty ladder. 'What would become of that black lace?'
'Thank you, it may be safer and quicker.'
'So far the evening is most successful,' said Jem, lighting above as she lighted below.
'That it is! I like Northwold better than any place I have been in since I left Thornton Conway. There is so much more heartiness and friendliness here than in ordinary society.
'I think Fitzjocelyn's open sympathies have conduced-'
Isabel laughed, and he checked himself, disconcerted.
'I beg your pardon,' she said; 'I was amused at the force of habit. If I were to say the Terrace chimneys did not smoke, you would say it was Lord Fitzjocelyn's doing.'
'Do not bid me do otherwise than keep him in mind.'
Down fell the highest candle: the hot wax dropping on Isabel's arm caused her to exclaim, bringing Jem down in horror, crying, 'I have hurt you! you are burnt!'
'Oh no, only startled. There is no harm done, you see,' as she cracked away the cooled wax-'not even a mark to remind me of this happy Christmas.'
'And it has been a happy Christmas to you,' he said, remounting.
