"I daresay, my dear, but great consequence spring from little causes sometimes. In this case, I don't imagine much harm has been done; and, as you say, I think Bob will be all right."
It cheered Nellie to hear this, but she remained somewhat depressed in spirit till the next day, when, accompanied by her brother, she went to inquire for their friend and found him in his usual health. He had never felt better in his life, he assured her, and her sense of relief was intense.
[CHAPTER VI.]
A CHRISTMAS EVE ADVENTURE.
MUCH to the satisfaction of everyone, the dry, cold weather continued for several days. After three nights' frost, the ice on the pond in the lower meadow was pronounced really firm enough to skate upon, and the village lads made a splendid slide from one side to the other. Bob Wills, who had never felt any ill effects from his accident, proved an adept in the art of sliding, and under his instructions, Rupert soon became as proficient as himself. Nellie would have liked to join the boys and learn to slide, too, but she was torn two ways, as there were the church and the schoolroom to be decorated; and finally she decided in favour of her mother and sister's society, and spent long hours in making paper roses, and twining festoons of holly and evergreens.
Great excitement reigned in the village as twilight gathered on the afternoon previous to Christmas Day. And five o'clock found the schoolroom a scene of festivity, full as it was of men, women, and children seated at the long, narrow tables which intersected the room, partaking of a substantial tea. Nearly every one in the parish was there, including the Vicar, a middle-aged bachelor, who, with the family from Haldon Hall, busied himself in waiting on Mr. Coker's guests. The meal was nearly over when it suddenly dawned upon Lilian that she had not come across Nannie Davey, and she inquired of her mother if the old woman was present.
"I have not seen her," was the reply. "No, I do not think she is here; perhaps she has changed her mind about coming."
"Nannie meant to come, ma'am," said a girl who had overheard Lilian's question and Mrs. Coker's answer, "but her rheumatism is that bad to-day she daren't stir outdoors. She's very disappointed, she told me so herself; I live next door to her, ma'am."
"Oh, how sorry I am she cannot come!" Lilian cried. "Mother, don't you think I might take her some bread and cream, and plum cake? Oh, do let me!"
"You will miss the magic-lantern—" Mrs. Coker was commencing, when the little girl interposed eagerly: