all expect you to come forward in great strength for
blindman's buff." As he gave her the required promise, he thought
that even the sports of Christmas-day would be bearable, if she also
were to make one of the sportsmen; and then they entered the church.

I do not know of anything more pleasant to the eye than a pretty
country church, decorated for Christmas-day. The effect in a city is
altogether different. I will not say that churches there should not
be decorated, but comparatively it is a matter of indifference. No
one knows who does it. The peculiar munificence of the squire who
has sacrificed his holly bushes is not appreciated. The work of the
fingers that have been employed is not recognised. The efforts made
for hanging the pendent wreaths to each capital have been of no
special interest to any large number of the worshippers. It has
been done by contract, probably, and even if well done has none of
the grace of association. But here at Noningsby church, the winter
flowers had been cut by Madeline and the gardener, and the red
berries had been grouped by her own hands. She and the vicar's wife
had stood together with perilous audacity on the top of the clerk's
desk while they fixed the branches beneath the cushion of the
old-fashioned turret, from which the sermons were preached. And
all this had of course been talked about at the house; and some of
the party had gone over to see, including Sophia Furnival, who had
declared that nothing could be so delightful, though she had omitted
to endanger her fingers by any participation in the work. And the
children had regarded the operation as a triumph of all that was
wonderful in decoration; and thus many of them had been made happy.

On their return from church, Miss Furnival insisted on walking,
in order, as she said, that Miss Staveley might not have all the
fatigue; but Miss Staveley would walk also, and the carriage, after
a certain amount of expostulation and delay, went off with its load
incomplete.

"And now for the plum-pudding part of the arrangement," said Felix
Graham.

"Yes, Mr. Graham," said Madeline, "now for the plum-pudding--and the
blindman's buff."

"Did you ever see anything more perfect than the church, Mr. Mason?"
said Sophia.

"Anything more perfect? no; in that sort of way, perhaps, never. I
have seen the choir of Cologne."

"Come, come; that's not fair," said Graham. "Don't import Cologne in
order to crush us here down in our litt