She had persisted in her refusal to spend Christmas in Bursley, but both Constance and Samuel knew that the resistance was only formal. She soon yielded. When Constance’s second new servant took it into her head to leave a week before Christmas, Mrs. Baines might have pointed out the finger of Providence at work again, and this time in her favour. But no! With amazing pliancy she suggested that she should bring one of her own servants to ‘tide Constance over’ Christmas. She was met with all the forms of loving solicitude, and she found that her daughter and son-in-law had ‘turned out of’ the state bedroom in her favour. Intensely flattered by this attention (which was Mr. Povey’s magnanimous idea), she nevertheless protested strongly. Indeed she 'would not hear of it.’
“Now, mother, don’t be silly,” Constance had said firmly. “You don’t expect us to be at all the trouble of moving back again, do you?” And Mrs. Baines had surrendered in tears.
Thus had come Christmas. Perhaps it was fortunate that, the Axe servant being not quite the ordinary servant, but a benefactor where a benefactor was needed, both Constance and her mother thought it well to occupy themselves in household work, ‘sparing’ the benefactor as much as possible. Hence Constance’s white apron.
“There he is!” said Mr. Povey, still playing, but with his eye on the street.
Constance sprang up eagerly. Then there was a knock on the door. Constance opened, and an icy blast swept into the room. The postman stood on the steps, his instrument for knocking (like a drumstick) in one hand, a large bundle of letters in the other, and a yawning bag across the pit of his stomach.
“Merry Christmas, ma’am!” cried the postman, trying to keep warm by cheerfulness.
Constance, taking the letters, responded, while Mr. Povey, playing the harmonium with his right hand, drew half a crown from his pocket with the left.
“Here you are!” he said, giving it to Constance, who gave it to the postman.
Fan, who had been keeping her muzzle warm with the extremity of her tail on the sofa, jumped down to superintend the transaction.
“Brrr!” vibrated Mr. Povey as Constance shut the door.