at zero."

Hildegarde felt her two hands grasped, and herself drawn firmly back
into the house.

"They do not take proper care of you!" said Roger. "And are you glad to
see me, Hilda?"

Everything seemed misty to Hildegarde after that. She heard the
welcomes and rejoicings; heard Gerald's voice of panting
apology,--"Couldn't keep up with the Codger, you know! Couldn't, 'pon my
word, he was in such a hurry!"--and received the Colonel's book in time
to tie it on the tree. She took her part in the carol, too, and wondered
that her voice should be so strong, and not tremble, as the rest of her
seemed to be trembling. Yes, and she saw the glorious Tree, in all its
splendour, and helped untie the presents, and sat with her lap full of
pretty things, sharing the wild delight of Will and Kitty, and the
quieter raptures of Hugh.

Yes, the lion was truly splendid; she had never heard such a roar, or
seen such a mane. She should really be afraid to come to Pumpkin House,
if she would be in danger of meeting him on the stairs. And Hugh's fleet
was a joy, and,--yes, certainly they would go sailing together; and
they'd go to the Dee, and the Jellybolee, over the land and over the
sea--

And all the time, the girl felt that she was in a dream, in which the
only real thing was the tall, broad-shouldered figure that moved so
lightly and cheerfully among the rest; was the deep, sweet voice that
was talking, explaining, parrying, the attack of the Colonel and all his
own family?

"Well, but it is true, my dear Miranda. I could not have helped it;
really I could not. No, I dined with no other friends. I dined on a cold
sausage, at a railway restaurant. I have travelled day and night to get
here, and I do not mean to be abused for my efforts. There was a railway
accident,--"

"An accident! Oh, Roger! are you hurt? Where are you hurt? How did it
happen? Tell us all about it? Whose fault was it? Was any one killed?"

Thus the Merryweathers in chorus, with Colonel Ferrers thundering a
bass. Roger Merryweather looked from one to the other; his eyes
twinkled, but he was silent.

"Well, sir?" cried his brother Miles, in a fine baritone solo.

"Well, sir!" retorted Roger. "I thought you were all doing it so
beautifully, it was a pity to interrupt. No,--no one was hurt. A
freight train broke down, and blocked all the trains on the road. The
delay was apparently endless; there seemed no particular reason why we
should ever go on. Fina