“Now, Patty was very fond of animals, and when the dog looked at her she looked at the dog, and then she said to me, ’He wants us to go with him.’

“On which (as if he understood our language, though we were ignorant of his) the spaniel sprang away, and went off as hard as he could; and Patty and I went after him, a dim hope crossing my mind—­’Perhaps Father Christmas has sent him for us.’

“The idea was rather favoured by the fact he led us up the lane.  Only a little way; then he stopped by something lying in the ditch—­and once more we cried in the same breath, ‘It’s Old Father Christmas!’

“Returning from the Hall, the old man had slipped upon a bit of ice, and lay stunned in the snow.

“Patty began to cry.  ‘I think he’s dead!’ she sobbed.

“‘He is so very old, I don’t wonder,’ I murmured; ’but perhaps he’s not.  I’ll fetch father.’

“My father and Kitty were soon on the spot.  Kitty was as strong as a man; and they carried Father Christmas between them into the kitchen.  There he quickly revived.

“I must do Kitty the justice to say that she did not utter a word of complaint at the disturbance of her labours; and that she drew the old man’s chair close up to the oven with her own hand.  She was so much affected by the behaviour of his dog that she admitted him even to the hearth; on which puss, being acute enough to see how matters stood, lay down with her back so close to the spaniel’s that Kitty could not expel one without kicking both.

“For our parts, we felt sadly anxious about the tree; otherwise we could have wished for no better treat than to sit at Kitty’s round table taking tea with Father Christmas.  Our usual fare of thick bread and treacle was to-night exchanged for a delicious variety of cakes, which were none the worse to us for being ’tasters and wasters’—­that is, little bits of dough, or shortbread, put in to try the state of the oven, and certain cakes that had got broken or burnt in the baking.

“Well, there we sat, helping Old Father Christmas to tea and cake, and wondering in our hearts what could have become of the tree.

“Patty and I felt a delicacy in asking Old Father Christmas about the tree.  It was not until we had had tea three times round, with tasters and wasters to match, that Patty said very gently:  ’It’s quite dark now.’  And then she heaved a deep sigh.

“Burning anxiety overcame me.  I leaned toward Father Christmas, and shouted—­I had found out that it was needful to shout—­“’I suppose the candles are on the tree now?’

“’Just about putting of ’em on,’ said Father Christmas.

“‘And the presents, too?’ said Patty.

“‘Aye, aye, to be sure,’ said Father Christmas, and he smiled delightfully.

“I was thinking what further questions I might venture upon, when he pushed his cup toward Patty saying, ’Since you are so pressing, miss, I’ll take another dish.’