I was glad to remember that I had called him back and spoken a
conciliatory word. No doubt he had been to blame. I could imagine him
hard and bitter to a fault. But he had suffered; there were lines upon
his face that had been traced by no common experience. No, it was not for
me to judge him. As he said, what could I know of a man's nature? And I
was still more glad when I saw Mr. Hamilton in the church porch, and knew
that the day's harmony was not disturbed, and that there was peace
between us. His bright, satisfied smile made me feel more cheerful.

'What a strange-looking man!' observed Jill, in rather a grumbling voice,
as we walked up the hill. 'Is that Mr. Hamilton? I thought he was young;
but he is quite old, Ursula.'

'No, dear, not more than three-or four-and-thirty, Uncle Max says.'

'Well, I call that old,' returned Jill, with the obstinacy of sixteen.
'He is an old bachelor, too, for of course nobody wants to marry him; he
is too ugly.'

'Oh, Jill, how absurd you are! Mr. Hamilton is not ugly at all. You will
soon get used to his face. It is only rather peculiar.' And I quite meant
what I said, for I had got used to it myself.

'Humph!' observed Jill significantly. But she did not explain the meaning
of her satirical smile, and I proceeded to call her attention to the
hoar-frost that lay on the cottage roof, and the beauty of the clear
winter sky. 'It is a glorious Christmas morning,' I finished.

We had a very merry breakfast, for Jill was almost wild with spirits, and
then we went to church again. Gladys was in her usual place, and looked
round at me with a smile as I entered. When the service was over, I went
to the Marshalls', accompanied by Jill, who announced her intention of
not letting me out of her sight, for I had to preside over the children's
Christmas dinner, and to look after my patient. We visited Robin next,
and then went on to the Lockes', and Jill sat open-eyed and breathless
in a corner of the room as I sang carols to Phoebe in the twilight.

She rose reluctantly when I put my hand on her shoulder and told her
that we must hurry back to the cottage to make ourselves smart for the
evening. Jill seldom troubled her head about such sublunary affairs as
dress.

'I shall be obliged to wear my old tweed,' she said contentedly. 'I have
only to smooth my hair, and then I shall be ready.' And she grumbled not
a little when I insisted on arranging a beautiful spray of holly as a
breast