Mrs. Mistletoe's lap. She, having been somewhat tried of late, began
screeching. Whelpdale caught up the celery, and blindly rushed towards
Sir Godfrey, while Popham, foreseeing trouble, rapidly ascended the
sideboard. The Baron stepped out of Whelpdale's path, and as he passed
by administered so much additional speed that little Buttons flew
under the curtained archway and down many painful steps into the
scullery, and was not seen again during that evening.

When Sir Godfrey had reseated himself, it seemed to the Rev. Hucbald
(such was the Chaplain's name) that the late interruption might be
well smoothed over by conversation. So he again addressed the Baron.

"To be sure," said he, taking a manner of sleek clerical pleasantry,
"though we can so often say 'Christmas is coming,' I suppose that if
at some suitable hour to-morrow afternoon I said to you, 'Christmas
is going,' you would grant it to be a not inaccurate remark?" The
Baron ate his dinner.

"I think so," pursued the Rev. Hucbald. "Yes. And by the way, I notice
with pleasure that this snow, which falls so continually, makes the
event of a green Christmas most improbable. Indeed,--of course the
proverb is familiar to you?--the graveyards should certainly not be
fat this season. I like a lean graveyard," smiled the Rev. Hucbald.

"I hate a ---- fool!" exclaimed Sir Godfrey, angrily.

After this the family fell into silence. Sir Godfrey munched his food,
brooding gloomily over his plundered wine-cellar; Mrs. Mistletoe
allowed fancy to picture herself wedded to Father Anselm, if only he
had not been a religious person; and Elaine's thoughts were hovering
over the young man who sat in a cage till time came for him to steal
out and come to her. But the young lady was wonderfully wise,
nevertheless.

"Papa," she said, as they left the banquet-hall, "if it is about me
you're thinking, do not be anxious any more at all."

"Well, well; what's the matter now?" said the Baron.

"Papa, dear," began Elaine, winsomely pulling at a tassel on his
dining-coat, "do you know, I've been thinking."

"Think some more, then," he replied. "It will come easier when you're
less new at it."

"Now, papa! just when I've come to say--when I want--when you--it's
very hard----" and here the artful minx could proceed no further, but
turned a pair of shining eyes at him, and then looked the other way,
blinking rapidly.

"Oh, good Lord!" muttered Sir Godfrey, staring hard at the wa