Frithiof laughed at the recollection.
“Yes,” he said; “she liked to be alone, and preferred to walk on quickly and keep ‘out of the ruck,’ as she expressed it. We were ‘the ruck,’ And how we laughed at her opinion of us.”
“Well, of course you wouldn’t exactly put it in that way, but all the same, I think you would want to be alone when you go back.”
He shook his head.
“No; you are quite mistaken. Now, promise that if Mr. Boniface agrees, you will all come too.”
“Very well,” she said, smiling, “I promise.”
“Where are they going to?” he exclaimed, glancing into the inner room where Roy was wrapping a thick sofa blanket about Sigrid’s shoulders.
“Out into the garden to hear the bells, I dare say,” she replied. “We generally go out if it is fine.”
“Let us come too,” he said; and they left the bright room and went out into the dusky veranda, pacing silently to and fro, absorbed in their own thoughts while the Christmas bells rang
“Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,