The younger group demurred.
"Then Jane will stay and play propriety."
Marian turned swiftly, and was gone before Jane could utter a word. But she paused in the hall and leaned up against the door jamb that was almost like a column. Her breath came quick and hard.
"It is too late," she said breathlessly, to herself. "And he doesn't care. I have passed my word, and to break it would call down a judgment upon myself. Then—I couldn't," and she shuddered. "I am not daring like Jaqueline, or even Dolly. But Dolly thinks it best."
When she entered the room her mother glanced up with sharp inquiry that softened as she motioned her to her side.
"Did you get tired of the nonsense?" she asked, in an approving tone. "My hand is most played out, and you shall take my place."
Mr. Greaves sat over opposite. He raised his serious, self-complacent face. She could recall another,—eager, warm with rushing emotions,—and it stood back of this one like a shadow. But, somehow, it did not beckon her. She was only a commonplace girl, rather straitly and strictly reared, with obedience impressed upon her from babyhood. Her father and mother always kept their promises, and she must do the same.
The fun was fast and furious out in the great kitchen. But at ten the mistress appeared and made them a little speech. They were to go to their cabins in an orderly manner, and any disturbance would be reported. To-morrow morning they would come for their gifts, and the week would be one of holidays.
"T'ankee, missus; t'ankee, missus!" came from voices still full of jollity; and woolly heads bobbed in a tumultuous manner.
Christmas Day was made festive by a grand dinner, to which all the gentry round were invited. The children had theirs in a smaller room, with quite ornate serving, and afterward there were games until dark, when the visitors were sent home in the different carriages. Everybody was tired from the festivities, and the day had certainly been a success.