It was a great surprise to Scrooge, as this scene vanished, to hear a hearty laugh.  It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognize it as his own nephew’s, and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew.

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humor.  When Scrooge’s nephew laughed, Scrooge’s niece by marriage laughed as heartily as he.  And their assembled friends, being not a bit behindhand, laughed out lustily.

“He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!” cried Scrooge’s nephew.  “He believed it too!”

“More shame for him, Fred!” said Scrooge’s niece, indignantly.  Bless those women! they never do anything by halves.  They are always in earnest.

She was very pretty, exceedingly pretty.  With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth that seemed made to be kissed,—­as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s head.  Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, but satisfactory, too.  O, perfectly satisfactory!

“He’s a comical old fellow,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that’s the truth; and not so pleasant as he might be.  However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.  Who suffers by his ill whims?  Himself, always.  Here he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won’t come and dine with us.  What’s the consequence?  He don’t lose much of a dinner.”

“Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner,” interrupted Scrooge’s niece.  Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner; and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered round the fire, by lamplight.

“Well, I am very glad to hear it,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “because I haven’t any great faith in these young housekeepers.  What do you say, Topper?”

Topper clearly had his eye on one of Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject.  Whereat Scrooge’s niece’s sister—­the plump one with the lace tucker, not the one with the roses—­blushed.

After tea they had some music.  For they were a musical family, and knew what they were about, when they sung a Glee or Catch, I can assure you,—­especially Topper, who could growl away in the bass like a good one, and never swell the large veins in his forehead, or get red in the face over it.