But Bryda put up her hand to prevent it, and started back. Suddenly the necklace became like a fetter which would bind her to the man who gave it. But Mr Bayfield was not to be baffled. As Bryda retreated he advanced, the necklace in his hand, till Bryda stood under the mistletoe bough.
Then he caught her hand, and saying, 'I take my privilege here,' he put his arm round her and kissed her on the lips as he clasped the necklace round her slender throat.
Like a lion from his lair Jack Henderson sprang on the Squire, and shouted,—
'You villain! how dare you?'
Instead of an angry retort the Squire only laughed ironically,—
'My good fellow, you may have your turn now. All is fair under the mistletoe bough at Christmas.'
Then, with a bow and a 'Good-night to you all,' the Squire departed, whistled to his groom, who had been holding his horse under cover in one of the farm sheds, and was gone.
Bryda, with burning cheeks, unfastened the hateful necklace, flung it down, and rushed out of the kitchen, regardless of her grandfather's repeated exclamations,—
'What are you about, you saucy baggage? And you, you lout, Jack, go and wait on the Squire, and see to his horse. What ails you—eh? It is not often a gentleman like that crosses our threshold and behaves so affable like and friendly.'
'Curse him!' was all that Jack could reply. 'If you think he is a gentleman, I say he is a villain. Good-night,' and then poor Jack, fuming and helpless, went out into the snowy night.