"And Gerald?" now cried the Colonel. "Am I to be robbed of half my guests, I ask you? Mrs. Merryweather, my dear madam, this is positively unfriendly, I must inform you. A Christmas Tree without Gerald Merryweather,—the idea is incongruous! I can say nothing more."
"Oh, Colonel Ferrers, that is my fault!" cried Hildegarde. "Gerald will be here in a moment; he ought to be here now, indeed. I very carelessly forgot something,—a little parcel that I wanted to bring,—and Gerald was so kind as to go back for it."
"Quite right, my child!" said the Colonel. "Of course you sent him! Preposterous if you had done anything else." He bustled off, and Hildegarde turned to look out of the window; for truth to tell, the parcel that she had left behind contained a little gift for the Colonel himself (it was a copy of "Underwoods." Hildegarde would have given copies of "Underwoods" to all her friends, if she could have afforded it), and she wanted to catch the first glimpse of Gerald. How long he was in coming! They were lighting the candles, Hugh whispered her; Jack and Mr. Raymond Ferrers and Mr. Merryweather were to light them as soon as the party was assembled. Gerald was wanted to take the second tenor in the carol. Why had she been so careless? Ah! there he was at last!
Hildegarde ran out to the porch, to receive the precious parcel.
"Oh," she cried, "how long you have been, child! I thought you would never come!"
"So did I," said a voice that certainly did not belong to Gerald, "but that is no reason why you should be out here with nothing on your head, and the thermometer at zero."
Hildegarde felt her two hands grasped, and herself drawn firmly back into the house.
"They do not take proper care of you!" said Roger. "And are you glad to see me, Hilda?"
Everything seemed misty to Hildegarde after that. She heard the welcomes and rejoicings; heard Gerald's voice of panting apology,—"Couldn't keep up with the Codger, you know! Couldn't, 'pon my word, he was in such a hurry!"—and received the Colonel's book in time to tie it on the tree. She took her part in the carol, too, and wondered that her voice should be so strong, and not tremble, as the rest of her seemed to be trembling. Yes, and she saw the glorious Tree, in all its splendour, and helped untie the presents, and sat with her lap full of pretty things, sharing the wild delight of Will and Kitty, and the quieter raptures of Hugh.
Yes, the lion was truly splendid; she had never heard such a roar, or seen such a mane. She should really be afraid to come to Pumpkin House, if she would be in danger of meeting him on the stairs. And Hugh's fleet was a joy, and,—yes, certainly they would go sailing together; and they'd go to the Dee, and the Jellybolee, over the land and over the sea—