We had a very merry breakfast, for Jill was almost wild with spirits, and then we went to church again.  Gladys was in her usual place, and looked round at me with a smile as I entered.  When the service was over, I went to the Marshalls’, accompanied by Jill, who announced her intention of not letting me out of her sight, for I had to preside over the children’s Christmas dinner, and to look after my patient.  We visited Robin next, and then went on to the Lockes’, and Jill sat open-eyed and breathless in a corner of the room as I sang carols to Phoebe in the twilight.

She rose reluctantly when I put my hand on her shoulder and told her that we must hurry back to the cottage to make ourselves smart for the evening.  Jill seldom troubled her head about such sublunary affairs as dress.

‘I shall be obliged to wear my old tweed,’ she said contentedly.  ’I have only to smooth my hair, and then I shall be ready.’  And she grumbled not a little when I insisted on arranging a beautiful spray of holly as a breast-knot, and twisting some very handsome coral beads that Charlie had given me round her neck.  Jill always looked better for a touch of warm colour:  the dark-red berries just suited her brown skin.  ’You will do better now,’ I said, pushing her away gently, ’so you need not pout and hunch your shoulders.  Have I not told you that it is your duty to make the best of yourself?—­we cannot be all handsome, but we need not offend our neighbours’ eyes.’  But, as usual, Jill turned a deaf ear to my philosophy.

The study looked very cosy when we entered it, and Uncle Max gave us a warm welcome.  To be sure, he shook his head at Jill, and told her that he was afraid she was a naughty girl, but both he and Mr. Tudor prudently refrained from teasing her on the subject of her escapade.  On the contrary, they treated her with profound respect, as though she were a grown-up, sensible young lady, and this answered with Jill.  She grew bright and animated, forgot her shyness, and talked in her quaint racy manner.  I could see that Mr. Tudor was much taken with her.  She was so different from the stereotyped young lady; her cleverness and originality amused him; and I am sure Uncle Max was equally surprised and pleased.

I could see Max was making strenuous efforts to be cheerful, but every now and then he relapsed into gravity.  After dinner I drew him aside a moment to speak to him about Jill:  to my relief, he promised to be the bearer of a letter to Aunt Philippa.

‘I want to go up to town for a day or two,’ he said, ’and I may as well do this business for you.  How happy the child looks, Ursula!  I wish you could keep her a little longer.  She is very much improved.  I had no idea that there was so much in her; she will be far more attractive than Sara when she has developed a moderate amount of vanity.’  And I fully endorsed this opinion.