God and sinners reconciled.”
Then—as always happens with all healthy, right-minded people, when their nerves are emerging, quiet, after a storm, and their hearts are full of thankfulness for blessings already realised, and for hopes brightening before them—Lucy began to wonder whether she had not been a little severe and unjust to Florence—whether she might not have blamed her for jars due rather to Lucy’s own morbidly irritable condition. She was glad she was to spend Christmas Day in her own house—glad that Miss Latimer and Mr. Somerset and the country boy were to be her guests—but possibly it did seem hard to Florence that she had been set aside. That last speech of hers about being now free to invite other guests might perhaps have been wrung from her by a jar inflicted by Lucy herself. Lucy felt that she would be the happier at her own little festival, if she could feel quite sure that all was right between Florence and herself, and that she had made due amends for aught she had done amiss.
She and Hugh were to have a slight lunch when they returned from church. She resolved that they would hurry over this, and then go to the Brands’ house, just to wish them “A Merry Christmas!” They could be back in the little house with the verandah before Miss Latimer and Mr. Somerset could arrive.
They had to knock twice before Mrs. Morison let them in.
“She’s so busy with her cooking, ma,” Hugh explained sagaciously. And indeed when she did come, her face was very red, and she was so pre-occupied that, as Hugh lingered a moment to knock snow from his boot, she actually hurried back to her kitchen and left them to close the door themselves.
“Don’t roast yourself as well as the chickens, Mrs. Morison!” Lucy called after her playfully.
Their nice little cold meal was awaiting them on a side table in the dining-room, the dining-table itself being already occupied by the best napery, crystal and cutlery, set out by Lucy before she went to church.
Hugh was all eagerness to see his little cousins and their Christmas cards and gifts—they were sure to have so many, and such beauties!
After all, the call, though satisfactory in one sense, proved less so in another. It convinced Lucy that her sister had not been hurt or offended; it also convinced her that the whole matter had been of such slight interest to Florence that she had forgotten all about it!
Jem Brand did not seem even to know that Lucy had been invited to be his guest! Said he—