No, it was his will that the dance should be held in the hall of the house, and that the pictures of the Illustrated Christmas Numbers should be realized to the utmost.

Dinner, therefore, was scrambled over in a hurry, and the family with their guests went upstairs to the drawing-room or out to the billiard-room, while preparations were made for the great event of the evening, the lighting of the Yule Log and Sir Roger de Coverley.

Then the first mishap occurred in the inopportune arrival of the Rev. Lisle Lindsay, whose rather sedate and solemn appearance cast a slight gloom upon everybody’s spirits, which deepened when Queenie whispered to Mildred that he looked upon dancing as a frivolous and worldly amusement scarcely to be tolerated and never to be encouraged.

He soon made an opportunity of devoting himself to Doreen, who was playing the lightest of light music at the piano in the corner of the room.

It had been a fancy of Mr. Wedmore’s, who had his own way in everything with his wife, to have this drawing-room, which was large and square and lighted by five windows, three at the front and two at the side, furnished entirely with old things of the style of eighty years back, with Empire chairs, sofas and cabinets, as little renovated as possible.  The effect was quaint and not unpleasing; a little cold, perhaps, but picturesque and graceful.

The grand piano had a case specially made for it, painted a dull sage-green and finished in a manner to give it a look of the less massive harpsichord.

It was at this instrument that Doreen sat, making a very pretty picture in her white silk, square-necked frock, with bands of beaver fur on the bodice and sleeves and an edging of the same fur round the bottom of the skirt.

“My purpose in coming here to-night, Miss Wedmore,” said Mr. Lindsay, when he had delivered an unimportant message from the vicar’s wife about the church decorations, “was really to bring you my good wishes for this blessed season.  I am afraid I shall have no opportunity of speaking to you to-morrow, though, of course, I shall see you in the church.”

“Oh, yes, we shall all be at church,” said Doreen, quickly.

She noted something rather unusual in the curate’s manner—­a nervous excitement which presaged danger; and she dashed into an air from “The Shop-Girl” with an energy which was meant to have the effect of checking his solemn ardor.

But the curate had the stuff of a man in him, and did not mean to be put off.  This opportunity was really a good one, for the talk in the room, which his arrival had checked for an instant, was now going on merrily.  Mrs. Wedmore did her best to keep up the conversation.  Nothing would have pleased her better than to see Doreen transfer her tender feeling for the discredited Dudley to such a suitable and irreproachable person as Lisle Lindsay.  She kept a hopeful eye on the pair at the piano while she went on talking to her husband’s old friend, Mrs. Hutchinson, who was staying with them for Christmas.