tand! Imagine for a moment
the British Press being run by America!"

Helmsley stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"I _can't_ imagine it,"--he said.

"No--of course you can't! But a few rascally city financiers _could_
imagine it, and more than that, were prepared to carry the thing
through. Then, the British people would have been led, guided, advised,
and controlled by a Yankee syndicate! And the worst of it is that this
same British people would have been kept in ignorance of the 'deal.'
They would actually have been paying their pennies to keep up the shares
of a gang of unscrupulous rascals whose sole end and object was to get
the British press into their power! Think of it!"

"But did they succeed?" asked Helmsley.

"No, they didn't. Somebody somewhere had a conscience. Somebody
somewhere refused to 'swop' the nation's much boasted 'liberty of the
press' for so much cash down. I believe the 'Times' is backed by the
Rothschilds, and managed by American advertisers--I don't know whether
it is so or not--but I _do_ know that the public ought to be put on
their guard. If I were a powerful man and a powerful speaker I would
call mass meetings everywhere, and urge the people not to purchase a
single newspaper till each one published in its columns a full and
honest list of the shareholders concerned in it. Then the public would
have a chance of seeing where they are. At present they _don't_ know
where they are."

"Well, you know very well where _you_ are!" said Mary, interrupting him
at this juncture--"You are in my house,--it's Christmas Day, and
dinner's ready!"

He laughed, and they all three sat down to table. It had been arranged
for fully a week before that Angus should share his Christmas dinner
with Mary and "old David"--and a very pleasant and merry meal they made
of it. And in the afternoon and evening some of the villagers came in to
gossip--and there was singing of songs, and one or two bashful attempts
on the part of certain gawky lads to kiss equally gawky girls under the
mistletoe. And Mary, as hostess of the haphazard little party, did her
best to promote kindly feeling among them all, effacing herself so
utterly, and playing the "old maid" with such sweet and placid
loveliness that Angus became restless, and was moved by a feverish
desire to possess himself of one of the little green twigs with white
berries, which, looking so innocent, were apparently so provocative,
and to try its effect by holdi