The gong summoned them to tea; and afterwards it was time to take the children home, happy and sleepy. Jim tossed Alison up on his shoulder, and, with Geoffrey clinging to his other hand, and Michael riding Wally pick-a-back, Norah and the boys escorted the Hunts back to the cottage.
“You’re coming over again, of course?” Jim said. “We’re going to dance to-night.”
“Oh yes; we’re getting a terribly frivolous old couple,” said Mrs. Hunt, laughing. “But Christmas leave only comes once a year, especially when there’s a war on!”
“I think she needs a rest-cure!” said her husband, knitting his brows over this remarkable statement. “Come in and lie down for awhile, or you won’t be coherent at all by to-night; Eva and I will put the babies to bed.”
“Can’t I help?” Norah asked.
“No—you’re off duty to-night. You’ve really no idea how handy I am!” said Major Hunt modestly.
“Then we’ll see you later on,” Norah said, disentangling Michael from her neck. “Good-night, Michael, darling; and all of you.”
“We’ve had a lovely time!” Geoffrey said.
“I’m so glad,” Norah said, smiling at him. The cottage-door closed, and they turned back.
“I’ve had a lovely time, too!” she said. “There never was such a Christmas!”