and he said dear little Primrose is almost quite well.  Fly is much better to-day; her eyes look quite bright, and she is to sit up a little while in the afternoon, but I may not talk to her for fear of making her cough; but she slept all night without one whoop, and will soon be well now.  Cousin Rotherwood was so glad that he was quite funny this morning, and he gave me the loveliest writing-case you ever saw, with a good lock and gold key, and gold tops to everything, and my three M’s engraved on them all.  I have so many presents and cards that I will write out a list when I have finished my letter.  I shall have plenty of time, for everybody is gone to church except Cousin Florence, who went early.

’I am to dine at the late dinner, which will be early, because of the church singers, and Cousin Rotherwood says he and I will do snapdragon, if I will promise not to whoop.

’4.30.—–­I had to stop again because of the doctor.  He says he does not want to have any more to do with me, and that I may go out the first fine day, and that Fly is much better.  And only think!  He says Rockquay is the very place for Fly, and as soon as we are not catching, we are all to go there.  Cousin Rotherwood told me so for a great secret, but he said I might tell you, and that he would ask Aunt Alethea to let Primrose come too.  It does warm one up to think of it, and it is much easier to feel thankful and glad about all the rest of the right sort of Christmas happiness, now I am so near having Gill and Val again.—–­Your very loving child,
                                               M. M. MERRIFIELD.’

(JASPER.)

’VALE LESTON PRIORY,
’25th December. 
’DEAREST MOTHER—–­Here are my Christmas wishes that we may all be right again at home this year, and that you could see the brace of pheasants I killed.  However, Gill and I are in uncommonly nice quarters.  I shall let her tell the long story about who is who, for there is such a swarm of cousins, and uncles, and aunts, and when you think you have hold of the right one, it turns out to be the other lot.  There are three houses choke full of them, and more floating about, and all running in and out, till it gets like the little pig that could not be counted, it ran about so fast.  They are all Underwood or Harewood, more or less, except the Vanderkists, who are all girls except a little fellow in knickerbockers.  Poor little chap, his father was a great man on the turf, and ruined him horse and foot before he was born, and then died of D. T., and his mother is a great invalid, and very badly off, with no end of daughters—–­the most stunning girls you ever saw—–­real beauties, and no mistake, especially Emily, who is great fun besides.  She is to be Helena when we act Midsummer Night’s Dream on Twelfth Night for all the natives, and I am Demetrius, dirty cad that he is!  She lives with the Grinsteads, and Anna with the Travis Underwoods, Phyllis’s young man’s bosses.  If he makes as good a thing of it as they have done, she will be no end of a swell.  Mr. Travis Underwood has brought down his hunters and gives me a mount.  Claude would go stark staring mad to see his Campeador.