And Mr. Wargrave understood in a moment, and though there was a murmur amongst his helpers, "Not that ugly old branch," he hushed them at once, and with his own hands arranged the branch in the middle of the pulpit.
Noel looked at it there with a smile all over his face, and then he trotted home to his dinner, but never said a single word to anyone of what he had done.
The event of that day was the carrying of the fir tree into the house. It was dug up carefully, and then put into a big pot, Noel watching the process throughout with big anxious eyes. The drawing-room had been emptied of its furniture, and Mrs. Inglefield and Noel were the only ones allowed to go inside.
It was enough to make any small boy feel important, for he and his mother were going to trim the tree themselves, and it took a long time to do it. Only a very little was done on this afternoon, and then the room was locked up until the next day.
Mrs. Inglefield had noticed that a branch was missing, and Noel's explanation had brought a smile to her face.
"A very nice thought, my boy. We shall like to see it in church on Christmas Day."
There seemed so much to do that day that time flew. The children put holly and ivy and mistletoe all over the house, even twining it round the banisters of the staircase.
When Christmas Eve came, Chris and Diana went up to the nursery to get their presents ready for Noel, and their mother and the servants. Noel went into the drawing-room with his mother, and was not seen for the whole morning. When he appeared at dinner, he said triumphantly:
"It is finished, and it looks glorious!"
But when Noel was not looking Mrs. Inglefield slipped into the room and put a few finishing touches to the tree. At half-past four the children were receiving their guests.