Betty Leicester's Christmas

  VIII

  The days flew by until Christmas, and the weather kept clear and bright,without a bit of rain or gloom, which was quite delightful and wonderfulin that northern country. The older guests hunted or drove or wentwalking. There were excursions of every sort for those who liked them,and sometimes the young people joined in what was going on, andsometimes Betty and Edith and Warford made fine plans of their own. Itproved that Edith had spent much time with the family of her uncle, whowas an army officer; and at the Western army posts she had learned toride with her cousins, who were excellent riders and insisted upon herjoining them. So Edith could share many pleasures of this sort atDanesly, and she was so pretty and gay that people liked her a gooddeal; and presently some of the house party had gone, and some newguests came, and the two girls and Warford were unexpected helpers intheir entertainment. Sometimes they dined downstairs now, when no onewas asked from outside; and every day it seemed pleasanter and morehomelike to stay at Danesly. There were one or two other great houses inthe neighborhood where there were also house parties in the gay holidayseason, and so Betty and Edith saw a great deal of the world in one wayand another; and Lady Mary remembered that girls were sometimes lonely,as they grew up, and was very good to them, teaching them, in quietways, many a thing belonging to manners and getting on with otherpeople, that they would be glad to know all their life long.

  BETTY, EDITH AND WARFORD]

  "Don't talk about yourself," she said once, "and you won't half so oftenthink of yourself, and then you are sure to be happy." And again: "Myold friend, Mrs. Procter, used to say, '_Never explain, my dear. Peopledon't care a bit._'"

  Warford was more at home in the hunting field than in the house; butthe young people saw much of each other. He took a great deal oftrouble, considering his usual fashion, to be nice to the two girls; andso one day, when Betty went to find him, he looked up eagerly to seewhat she wanted. Warford was busy in the gun room, with the parts of agun which he had taken to pieces. There was nobody else there at thatmoment, and the winter sun was shining in along the floor.

  "Warford," Betty began, with an air of great confidence, "what can we dofor a bit of fun at Christmas?"

  Warford looked up at her over his shoulder, a little bewildered. He wasjust this side of sixteen, like Betty herself; sometimes he seemedmanly, and sometimes very boyish, as happened that day. "I'm in foranything you like," he said, after a moment's reflection. "What's on?"

  "If we give up dining with the rest, I can think of a great plan," saidBetty, shining with enthusiasm. "There's the old gallery, you know.Couldn't we have some music there, as they used in old times?"

  "My aunt would like it awfully," exclaimed Warford, letting his gunstockdrop with a thump. "I'd rather do anything than sit all through thedinner. Somebody'd be sure to make a row about me, and I should feellike getting into a burrow. I'll play the fiddle: what did youmean?--singing, or what? If we had it Christmas Eve, we might have theChristmas waits, you know."

  "_Fancy!_" said Betty, in true English fashion; and then they bothlaughed.

  "The waits are pretty silly," said Warford. "They were better than usuallast year, though. Mr. Macalister, the schoolmaster, is a good musician,and he trained them well. He plays the flute and the cornet. Why not seewhat we can do ourselves first, and perhaps let them sing last? They'dbe disappointed not to come at midnight under the windows, you know,"said Warford considerately. "We'll go down and ask the schoolmasterafter hours, and we'll think what we can do ourselves. One of thegrooms has a lovely tenor voice. I heard him singing 'The Bonny IvyTree' like a flute only yesterday, so he must know more of those otherold things that Aunt Mary likes."

  "We needn't have much music," said Betty. "The people at dinner will notlisten long,--they'll want to talk. But if we sing a Christmas song alltogether, and have the flute and fiddle, you know, Warford, it would bevery pretty--like an old-fashioned choir, such as there used to be inTideshead. We'll sing things that everybody knows, because everybodylikes old songs best. I wish Mary Beck was here; but Edith sings--shetold me so; and don't you know how we sang some nice things together,the other day upon the moor, when we were coming home from thehermit's-cell ruins?"

  Warford nodded, and picked up his gunstock.

  "I'm your man," he said soberly. "Let's dress up whoever sings, withwigs and ruffles and things. And then there are queer trumpets andviols in that collection of musical instruments in the music-room. Someof us can make believe play them."

  "A procession! a procession!" exclaimed Betty. "What do you say to acompany with masks to come right into the great hall, and walk round thetable three times, singing and playing? Lady Dimdale knows everythingabout music; I mean to ask her. I'll go and find her now."

  "I'll come, too," said Warford, with delightful sympathy. "I saw her awhile ago writing in the little book-room off the library."