My own Ermie looked thoughtful. “It won’t seem queer, you think, our bursting in upon them with Christmas presents like this—without provocation?” she asked.
“My dear child, queer or not queer,” said Mrs Albert, “it is imperative. You know how much depends upon it—there are plenty of others who would be equally useful in various ways, but not like the Gregorys—and if there were there’s no time now. If this could have happened, now, a fortnight ago, or even last week——”
“Yes, but it didn’t,” replied Ermyntrude. “It only happened to-day.” She turned to me, with a little laugh in her eyes. “Mamma complains that we delayed so long. We have interfered with the Christmas arrangements.”
“If I had only known! But—I claim to be treated as one of the family, you know—I couldn’t quite grasp what you were saying about the Gregorys. I gather that our—our betrothal involves Christmas presents for them, but I confess I don’t know why. Or oughtn’t I to have asked, dear?”
For answer Ermyntrude looked saucily into my face, twisted her dear nose into a pretty little mocking grimace, and ran out of the room. Mrs Albert vouchsafed no explanation, but talked of other matters—and there were enough to talk about.
It was not, indeed, till late in the evening, when Uncle Dudley and I were upon our last cigar, that I happened to recall the mystifying incident of the Gregorys.
“That’s simplicity itself,” said Uncle Dudley. “The Gregorys own one of the tidiest country seats in Nottinghamshire—lovely old house, sylvan arbours, high wall, fascinating rural roads—in the very heart of county society, too—O, a most romantic and eligible place!”
“Well, what of it? What has that to do with Ermyntrude and me and Santa Claus?”
“If you will read the Morning Post the day after your wedding, my dear, dull friend, you will learn that Colonel Gregory has placed at the disposal of a certain bridal couple for their honeymoon his ideal country residence. The paper will not state why, but I will tell you in confidence. It will be because the bride’s mother is a resourceful and observant woman, who knows how to plant at Christmas that she may gather at Easter.”
“I hate to have you always so beastly cynical, Dudley,” I was emboldened to exclaim.