I Cannot Think of a Christmas-y Phrase That Allows Any Play on the Title When Two Paths Meet

I shall keep trying to think of a festive tie-in for the title of our final finalist for the 2012 Best Betty Christmas vote, but doubt I’ll get there.  The candidates, for the last time – second-to-last, really, as I’ll list them again when I post the voting link – are:

Damsel in Green (1970)

Caroline's Waterloo  (1980)

A Girl to Love (1982)

When Two Paths Meet  (1988)

The Mistletoe Kiss  (1997)

A Christmas Romance  (1999)

So our final re-cap is for When Two Paths Meet, recently reprised with Betty Debbie’s brilliant review.  The setting is romance as geography: Katherine and Jason court in Salisbury (the only city in Wiltshire, apparently), in and around the cathedral famous for the beauty of its architecture and setting, as captured in the glorious paintings of John Constable – and, more vaguely, on the cover of the original Harlequin edition of this novel.

So we open in October, and in jig time Katherine has her first job, thanks to Jason, living quite close to the cathedral and companioning the elderly Graingers.  She looks forward to deploying her salary in service of amassing a more flattering wardrobe by Christmas.  She sets aside some money to buy presents for her vile brother and his almost-as-vile wife and their two unloving and unlovely children; whether that’s true-spirit-of-Christmas or get-yourself-to-a-shrink-and-deal-with-that-martyr-complex is in the eye of the beholder.

By chapter five, Katherine is a nursing aide at the hospital, and we are drawing closer to the holiday.  Sister is pressing every able-bodied patient into paper-chain construction, and the ward is further bedecked with paper flowers and “coloured crepe-paper mats for the bed tables and locker tops.  They would be the very devil to keep tidy and clean, observed Andy, but Sister, who considered herself artistic, always got carried away at Christmas.”  Needless to say, the visit to Katherine’s family is a complete bust – “She had been stupid to come” – let us draw the veil.

An evening out with Jason’s fun and friendly young cousin, Edward, does Katherine a bit of good, as do the mince pies back at Mrs. Potts’s boarding house, and the promise of turkey on Christmas.  Mildly heartened, Katherine has a bit of a spree on a snowy Christmas Eve, as she’ll be working Christmas and Boxing days.  She buys herself a new wool crepe dress and plain black leather shoes, and after boiled ham with parsley sauce at Mrs. Potts’s, and then heads out to the cathedral for the midnight service.  Exiting that uplifting event, she’s waylaid by the doctor and Edward and a steaming-mad Dodie Veronica, who drag her back to the doctor’s for steaming-hot chocolate and salmon (this does not sound a perfect match to me).  She also gets an invitation to the Fitzroy New Year’s Eve party, which should be a doozy.  Jason drives her home and kisses her cheek.  Happy Christmas indeed!

Christmas day dawns early and chilly, and we’re off to work, where three RTAs in the night will keep us busy.  However, there’s also a bran tub of presents; Katherine draws the last one.  “notelets — so useful, Staff Nurse pointed out kindly, for writing thank-you notes for presents.

“Only Katherine hadn’t had any presents.”  One could weep.

Still, the ward is genuinely festive, “the consultant surgeon, Mr. Bracewaite, arrived with the turkey and, suitably aproned and crowned with a chef’s cap, carved with the same precision he exhibited in the theatre.” (yuk)  There are crackers (the bang-prize kind, not the cheese-and kind), paper hats, and a bottle of plonk (cheap wine), which the nurses drink on duty(!).  Katherine gets to tour the other wards, adding another two glasses of hooch to her count for the afternoon.  The alcohol content does not, fortunately, cause her to drop a patient, but she does bump into Jason in Paediatrics and drop a clanger – calling him by his first name.  Oh, dear.

 So that’s Christmas, but remember, it’s England – so Katherine’s early dismissal by Sister on Boxing Day counts as part of the holiday, especially as she once again gets scooped up by Jason and borne off to his house for tea ‘round the fire, with fruitcake.  The witch Dodie appears, tosses out a few shockingly unkind insults, and then vanishes in a puff, leaving the Fitzroy boys and Katherine to enjoy Dover sole and trifle and poker lessons.  I wish I could make a case for the 27^th being part of Christmas – the snow’s still crisp and white and even – because the three of them hie off to Stourhead, and it’s just the loveliest outing ever.  But I don’t see how I can advance that argument.  So that’s it for Christmas When Two Paths Meet.  (But New Year’s...)



Salisbury Cathedral Christmas card





Elaine Hodgson



All I Want for Christmas is A Girl to Love

So we arrived at six finalists for the 2012 Best Betty Christmas vote, as listed below.  Not to influence anyone’s thinking or independent judgment or anything, but I suspect this is the one that will get my vote. 

Damsel in Green (1970)

Caroline's Waterloo  (1980)

A Girl to Love (1982)

When Two Paths Meet  (1988)

The Mistletoe Kiss  (1997)

A Christmas Romance  (1999)

One reason I suspect this:  I know Sadie Gillard and Oliver Trentham’s names without having to look them up.  The best I can do on the others is DiG’s heroine first name and hero last name, CW’s heroine first name (hint provided), and I may never forget that ACR stars Theodosia.  Betty Keira will post Betty Debbie’s full reprise of A Girl to Love on Monday, but meanwhile I shall remind you, at more length than intended, of the wonderfulness of the Christmas celebration it shares with us.

Background: Sadie’s granny dies five weeks before Christmas, and Sadie has to sell the cottage in Chelcombe, a small village in Dorset where she’s lived for most of her 23 years.  Fortunately, Oliver buys the place and hires her to housekeep for him and his two small daughters.  In the grand British Betty tradition of upper-lip-stiffening, Sadie mourns Granny for about three paragraphs and then starts making the best of things – and one of the best things is that Christmas is coming, and someone has got to make the season festive for the girls, since their haughty, cold-hearted governess sure won’t do it, and Dad is too emotionally insecure and work-burdened to be proactive in the matter.  Beautifully, and love-inducingly, he pitches in when offered the chance.

As, for instance, when he bundles Sadie into the Aston Martin Volante (not socking great in size, but great in awesomeness) and heads to Bath for a spot of gift-getting.  Sadie buys herself some more colorful clothes as well, including a sapphire-blue dress to wear on Christmas – and for Neels aficionados, perhaps a skosh of foreshadowing...  Later, we get to peek over Sadie’s shoulder as she composes her lists of household necessities for this most consumerist of holidays, and tag along as she makes her purchases at both Mrs. Beamish’s village shop and at the “splendidly old-fashioned grocers” in Bridport, where, “they offer you a chair, you know, and call you madam.”

Coming away from Bridport, Oliver frowns, prompting Sadie to ask, “You don’t like Christmas?”  “It’s become a commercial holiday, I seem to have lost the real Christmas years ago,” he replies.  Sadie assures him, “You’ll find it again in Chelcombe.”

Or perhaps in Bridport, for after the two little girls arrive, Sadie proposes a trip to that city to see Father Christmas parade through town.  The festive air is infectious, and kinda-sorta leads to the dismissal of the vile Miss Murch.  With her gone, the happy almost-family is free to make paper chains, with Oliver “making rather a botch of it,” but at least he’s trying.  And he’s happy to take the girls and Sadie shopping, in Dorchester this time, so they can buy presents for each other, including a shocking tie for Dad and a garish headscarf for Sadie.

We also have mention of the carol service at church, the children’s party at school, carol singers arriving for mince pies, “tying up of parcels and, for the first time in years, a great many Christmas cards.”  By Christmas Eve, the cottage is festooned with holly and colored paper, and the pillowcases are ready for stuffing with gifts.

Then, yay! it’s Christmas morning and Anna and Julie crowd onto Sadie’s bed with Tom the cat to open their gifts.  Oliver joins them with the tea tray, and amongst the garish headscarves, hankies and knitted gloves, Sadie receives an “extravagant box, tied with bright cords and.. awash with tissue paper.”  It contains a real silk blouse and skirt in amber:  “Its elegance was indisputable.  Just looking at it made her feel beautiful,” and, in fact, brings her to a teardrop or two of happiness.  Plus a demand that she “kiss Daddy thank you,” which she does, chastely on his cheek.

Walking to church through the snow, carving turkey “in a masterly fashion,” and playing with new dolls and their hand-sewn outfits, before a late tea and bit of record-player listening, round out a “lovely day.”  I am quite sure we have all re-discovered the spirit of Christmas at this point.

Of course, Betty doesn’t neglect the quintessential experience of the holidays:  cleaning like crazy, making a big mess of everything, and then tidying up again.  On Boxing Day, Oliver invites an unknown number of people over for drinks and titbits, which requires Sadie arising at the crack of d. to manufacture the sausage rolls Oliver is accustomed to ordering from Fortnum’s, and staying up late to clear away the dishes and napkins after a singularly successful drinks party.

Spirit of Christmas, indeed.  Plus, they're -- spoiler alert -- engaged by New Year's, so loving and giving abounds for ever after.

Meet Me Under The Mistletoe Kiss

Gracious!  Look at the date!  What with decking my halls and wedging myself into a corner of an overstuffed hotel ballroom for the Jonkheer’s office holiday party, doing ankle-strengthening exercises for the threatened ice-skating at my own office holiday party and berating dilatory family members for their failures to produce either travel plans or Christmas wish lists, I’ve fallen behind on the Christmas-scene re-caps.  For the fourth of six times, let me just note the finalists for the upcoming TUJD Best Christmas Ever (2012 version) vote:

Damsel in Green (1970)

Caroline's Waterloo  (1980)

A Girl to Love (1982)

When Two Paths Meet  (1988)

The Mistletoe Kiss  (1997)

A Christmas Romance  (1999)

The Mistletoe Kiss actually opens in October, with Ermentrude Foster and Ruerd ter Mennolt meeting for the first time over his desk at St. Luke’s hospital.  As autumn strolls toward winter, they get off to a bad start, rectify that over boiled eggs, rescue a kitten, adopt a dog, and so forth.  Ruerd’s rude and unkind fiancée suggests he throw a Christmas party, and Emmy begins knitting a pullover for her father’s Christmas present.  Mr. Foster gets a job offer, engineered by Ruerd, that will allow him, the Mrs. and Emmy to spend Christmas in Dorset, where they belong, rather than in noisome, crowded, dingy London.  But before that can happen, Emmy must get hit in the head by housebreakers, and Mum and Dad must discover that the Dorset plumbing is faulty and the house over-burdened with the previous owner’s furnishings, which sad setting for a convalescent Christmas inspires Ruerd to invite the whole clan over to Huis ter Mennolt.

And then we get truly festive.  The Fosters and Ruerd decorate the tree together, topping it with a fairy doll that his youngest niece will receive as a gift after the holiday, and Emmy and Ruerd deck the nursery walls with paper chains before a bevy of siblings arrive with their children (so important an element of a true, old-fashioned Christmas, right?) in tow.  There’s shouting and laughing, racing, dog-hugging and uncle-hanging-onto.  Twenty people sit down to dinner, with white lace and sparkling glass and polished silver surrounding an epergne filled with holly, Christmas roses and trailing ivy.  You may imagine the menu.

Next day is Christmas Eve, with the promise of snow in the air, a brisk walk, tea by the fire with Christmas cake and another magnificent menu (roast pheasant tonight).  “Christmas Day proved to be everything it should be”: church in the morning, with carols albeit in Dutch, then presents after lunch.  Emmy gets a “blue cashmere scarf, the colour of a pale winter sky” that will remind her of the professor every time she wears it.

And the mistletoe of the title?

“She turned to go back upstairs again.  ‘I ought to be changing,’ she said quickly.  ‘Thank you for my scarf. I've never had anything cashmere before.’

“He didn't say anything, but wrapped his great arms round her and kissed her.

“She was so taken by surprise that she didn't do anything for a moment.  She had no breath anyway.  The kiss hadn't been asocial peck; it had lingered far too long. And besides, she had the odd feeling that something was alight inside her, giving her the pleasant feeling that she could float in the air if she wished.  If that was what a kiss did to one, she thought hazily, then one must avoid being kissed again.

“She disentangled herself.  ‘You shouldn't…’ she began. ‘What I mean is, you mustn't kiss me. Anneliese wouldn't like it…’

“He was staring down at her, an odd look on his face. ‘But you did, Ermentrude?’

She nodded.  ‘It's not fair to her,’ she said, and then, unable to help herself, asked, ‘Why did you do it?’

“He smiled.  ‘My dear Ermentrude, look up above our heads.  Mistletoe—see?  A mistletoe kiss, permissible even between the truest strangers. And really we aren't much more than that, are we?’

“He gave her an avuncular pat on the shoulder. ‘Run along and dress or you will be late for drinks.’  Emmy didn't say anything; her throat was crowded with tears and she could feel the hot colour creeping into her face.  She flew up the staircase without a sound. Somewhere to hide, she thought unhappily.  He was laughing at me.

“But the professor wasn't laughing.”

Not an entirely unmixed Christmas for Emmy, then.  But, as Grandmother ter Mennolt says, “I must confess that I prefer the quiet of my room, but it is Christmas and one must make merry!”  Which seems to involve stuffing oneself with bonhomie, turkey and mince pies, although as a cousin ter Mennholt notes, “‘Of course, not all Dutch families celebrate as we do here.  This is typically English, is it not?  But you see we have married into English families from time to time, and this is one of the delightful customs we have adopted.’”  And after that, we have some lovely wintery time with children and pea soup, blow hot-blow cold professorial nonsense and bitter-twisted-fiancée/ex-fiancée-lies, escape plans and loin-girding to arrive at the eventual HEA on the beach with a bitter wind slicing into our snogging bones.

It’s beginning to look a lot like A Christmas Romance

Those finalists, again, for TUJD Best Christmas Ever (2012 version) are:
  

Damsel in Green (1970)

Caroline's Waterloo  (1980)

A Girl to Love (1982)

When Two Paths Meet  (1988)

The Mistletoe Kiss  (1997)

A Christmas Romance  (1999)

Let us recall a few highlights of that latest-published volume, in which dietician’s assistant Theodosia Chapman manages to meet senior medical consultant Professor Hugo Bendinck, fall for him, adopt a dog with him, lose him (the doctor, not the dog), and win his undying love forever in a mere 103 pages in my 2001 Mills & Boon “Betty Neels Collector’s Edition.”

The story opens just five weeks before Christmas, when it’s cold and wet and dark outside, but cozy and warm in Theodosia’s London studio flat, with its bright cushions and handsome ginger cat, Gustavus.  Theodosia lives alone but plans to spend the holiday with her remaining family:  two elderly and rather unloving great-aunts in a chilly cottage in Finchingfield.  Much of the book’s four chapters concern various preparations for Christmas, greatly enlivened by the assistance of Hugo, whom Theodosia meets at the hospital where she works as a typist.

There’s also an awfully lot of mention of cold:  cold weather, Great-aunt Mary’s face “held little warmth,” cold cottage, underdone beef, cold supper, “not quite hot” bath water, cold feet (literal), chilly church, cold lunch, shivering one’s way to the bathroom, cold sleet, a brief mention of her parents’ deaths, five years earlier, of ’flu.  I am curling my toes and hunching my shoulders just typing about it.  But Theodosia has ginger hair – a bit of fire – and a ginger cat, and the professor’s car and home are blissfully warm, and Christmas is coming...

So off we go to the hospital ball, in a nipped and tucked dove-grey dress from Oxfam, to dance with the professor and ride luxuriously home in his Bentley.  And then it’s time to dash out to Fortnum & Mason’s to do the aunts’ shopping – but wait, the professor is there again, driving us (luxuriously) to that emporium to hand over the shopping list to the food-department experts and spring for a lunch of (hot) omelette and a glass of wine, and resisting “a wish to kiss the tip of her nose.”

And the following weekend, in the Christmas spirit of loving and giving, Theodosia succors an old lady hit by a car.  The professor, coincidentally and fortuitously driving by, ties off gushing arteries and whatnot whilst our heroine chats with the plucky survivor:

“She went and knelt by the old lady, who was still conscious but very pale.  ‘Bit of bad luck,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I was going to me daughter for Christmas...’  ‘Well, you will be well again by then,’ said Theodosia.  ‘The doctor's here now and you're going to hospital in a few minutes.’  ‘Proper Christmas dinner, we was going ter 'ave.  Turkey and the trimmings—I like a bit of turkey...’  ‘Oh, yes, so do I,’ said Theodosia, her ears stretched for the ambulance.  ‘Cranberry sauce with it...  and a nice bit of stuffing.’  The old lady's voice was very weak.  ‘And plenty of gravy.  Sprouts and pertaters and a good bread sauce.  Plenty of onion with it.’  ‘Your daughter makes her own puddings?’ asked Theodosia, and thought what a strange conversation this was—like a nightmare only she was already awake.”

You’ve got to love that, right?  She’s kneeling on the sidewalk, speckled with elderly blood, queasy at the site of the “awful mess” a speeding car can make of a stranger’s leg, and chatting about pudding recipes.  Perhaps not traditionally Christmassy, and perhaps adopting an unloved mutt out of the dogs’ home (which they do that afternoon) isn’t either, but the spirit is certainly right.

Sadly, by Christmas Eve we’re in a fine muddle, the prof having told Theodosia he plans to marry, and neglecting to mention, from some misplaced modesty or inappropriate sense of the dramatic, the you bit – I plan to marry you.  So of course when she sees him laughing with a lovely woman who kisses his cheek, she doesn’t think, “Must be his sister,” but instead grabs the nearest path lab assistant and pretends they’re dating.  And then off home to the sometimes cozy, sometimes chilly bedsit to pack the great-aunts’ gifts and catch the late train.  Except landlady Mrs. Towzer, “Aving a bit of a party this evening; must get meself poshed up,” drops off a letter from those fickle aunts, dis-inviting Theodosia for Christmas! in preference to an elderly archdeacon and his wife recently returned from South America.  A moment’s despondency for Theodosia, and then:

“...she got up, counted the money in her purse, got her shopping bag from behind the door, assured Gustavus that she would be back presently and left the house.”

She lays out her train-ticket funds on three days’ groceries, plus a discounted turkey leg, a small Christmas pudding and a plastic tree.

“...‘We are going to have a happy Christmas together,’ she told Gustavus.  ‘You'll be glad, anyway, for you'll be warm here, and I've bought you a present and you've bought me one, too.

“...The room looked welcoming and cheerful; the holly and the Christmas cards covered the almost bare walls and the Christmas tree, viewed from a distance, almost looked real. The cat food, wrapped in coloured paper, and the box of chocolates were arranged on each side of it and she had put the apples in a dish on the table. ‘Quite festive,’ said Theodosia to Gustavus, who was washing himself in front of the gas fire. ‘Now I shall have a cup of cocoa and you shall have some milk, and we'll go to bed.’”

But Hugo has been busy disentangling lies and grilling great-aunts, and swoops in to bear his love away to his warm Regency house, rendered less quiet than usual by the arrival of family.  Take it away, Betty:

“‘You are spending Christmas with me at home.’  ‘I'm not. I have no intention of going anywhere.... It is most kind of you,’ began Theodosia, and put a hand on his arm.  This was a mistake, for he took it, turned it over and kissed the palm.  ‘Oh, no,’ said Theodosia in a small voice as he wrapped his great arms round her.  She wriggled, quite uselessly, and he said gently, ‘Keep still, my darling; I'm going to kiss you.’  Which he did at some length and very thoroughly.

“‘I have been wanting to do that for a long time.  I've been in love with you ever since we first met.  I love you and there will be no reason for anything I do unless you are with me.’ 

“He gave her a swift kiss.  ‘Now come along.’  He swept her downstairs and as they reached the hall Mrs. Towzer came to see who it was.  ‘Going out, Miss Chapman?  At this time of night?’ She eyed the professor. ‘You've been here before; you seemed a nice enough gent.’  She stared at him severely.  ‘No ’anky-panky, I ’ope.’  The professor looked down his splendid nose at her. ‘Madam, I am taking my future wife to spend Christmas at my home with my sister and her family... ‘Oh, well, in that case... ’Appy Christmas to you both.’

“‘I promise I will never be stern with you.’  He turned to look to her as he started the car. ‘Or our children.’  She smiled and wanted to cry, too, for a moment.  From happiness, she supposed. ‘What a wonderful day to be in love and be loved.  I'm so happy.’  As they reached his house, the first strokes of midnight sounded from the church close by, followed by other church bells ringing in Christmas Day. ... He closed the door behind him, set Gustavus in his basket on the table and swept Theodosia into his arms. ‘This is what I have wanted to do—to wish you a happy Christmas in my own home—your home, too, my dearest.’  Theodosia, after being kissed in a most satisfactory manner, found her breath.  ‘It’s true, it’s all true?  Dearest Hugo, Happy Christmas.’  She stretched up and kissed him and then kissed him again for good measure.” 

The end.

Christmas - still coming [Damsel in Green]

So the finalists for TUJD Best Christmas Ever (2012 version) are:

Damsel in Green (1970)

Caroline's Waterloo  (1980)

A Girl to Love (1982)

When Two Paths Meet  (1988)

The Mistletoe Kiss  (1997)

A Christmas Romance  (1999)

I think it might be helpful to refresh your memories of the various wonderments each of these slim volumes holds, so I shall, over the next few days, post some summaries.  We begin with the story of Staff Nurse Georgina Rodman and Professor in Anaesthetics Julius van den berg Eyyfert, festively studded with her aunt and his many young cousins.

“'Are you using your own money for this Christmas job, Georgina?’” Karel asks, and indeed she is.  Her parcels enable the young van den berg Eyyferts to create paper chains and other decorations well in advance of the holiday – in fact, they’re almost done by St. Nicholaas Day.  Given the family’s Dutch roots, we get to celebrate that event as well, with “real gifts” supplementing their chocolate letters including watches, a Domiplan F2.8/50 camera, pearl earrings and a Meissen figurine for Georgina; coincidentally, one she’s admired for months in a Saffron Walden shop window.

Drawing closer to Christmas, Georgina takes a day for a London shopping spree that includes “a long-skirted dream of a dress, of a dark green velvet...”  The handmade decorations have been sorted into boxes, ready to be put up on Christmas Eve, and “Mrs. Stephens sent up vast quantities of mince pies each teatime.”  There is wet-haired carol-singing by the fire, piano-moving to enhance same, and “Christmas cards festooning the Balkan frame over Cor's bed,” in preparation.  Cousin Karel takes Georgina to visit Aunt Polly (who always spends Christmas with friends since her niece is unlikely to have the day off from her hospital duties) and brings along “a large square box of his own, which, when Georgina queried it, she was told was none of her business.”  It is a gift from Julius to Aunt, and contains six bottles of the best champagne.

And then there’s Christmas Eve:  Georgina has a chance to remind the Prof that his “bad luck” in having to work that day is “nicely cushioned.”  Once that’s out of the way, we begin decorating, “and  as  everyone  had  their  own  ideas  as  to  what  looked  best  the results  were  unique  and  startling;  only  in  the  hall  and  drawing  room  did Dimphena  and  Georgina  get  their  way.    They  had  put  their  heads  together  days before,  and  now  proceeded  to  fill  the  vases  with  charming  arrangements  of holly  and  Christmas  roses  and  coloured  baubles  and  the  silvered  pine  cones they  had  collected  on  their  walks.  They  twined  holly  and  evergreens  around  the  great  fireplaces,  and  arranged the  elaborate  centrepiece  they  had  all  had  a  hand  in  on  the  dining  table.  There  was  a  small  tree  for  Cor's  room,  which  they  had  put  as  close  to  him  as possible,  so  that  he  could  help  with  its  decoration,  and  while  they  did  that, Karel  and  Franz  blew  up  the  balloons  which  they  insisted  were  an indispensable  part  of  the  decorations.    Karel  hung  them  in  great  colourful bunches  all  over  the  house--he  hung  the  mistletoe  as  well,  and  then  refused to  tell  them  where.”

Georgina marches through the snowy lane to fetch a last few tags and wrapping paper, singing of snow.  Her Christmas wishes come partially true when Julius gives her a warm ride home in the Rolls, interrupted only to exchange gifts with the Leggs at the lodge, and requests, with an avuncular kiss, that she wear her prettiest dress to dinner.  Then there’s that whole mother’s-diamond-ring thing, largely forgotten over smoked salmon, roast goose, chestnuts, cranberry sauce, haricots verts, potatoes noissette and zabagloine – and claret, and champagne.

We have a confab in the Professor’s bedroom(!), a sneaky foray to leave Christmas socks by the younger children’s beds, heady compliments and liqueurs by the fire, much, much too late for someone planning to attend 7:00am service.

I’ll let Betty take it from here:  “It was cold when she left the house the next morning and made her way to the garage.  She was in the Mini and had just switched on the ignition when Julius said out of the darkness, ‘Good morning, Miss Rodman, and a Happy Christmas.  Move over--if we are to risk life and limb on these appalling lanes, I might as well be responsible for the damage.’  She moved over without a word, her heart beating a rapid tattoo which she felt sure he could hear.  It seemed not; he got in beside her and shut the door with the air of a man fitting himself into a too tight coat.  It was a good thing that she was a normal-sized girl; as it was, it would be impossible for them to be any closer.”

“The little church was full, its early morning chill scented with holly and chrysanthemums; Georgina enjoyed the service and said so on the way home. ... It was still very dark, but there were lights at some of the windows of the rambling old house, and the clear frosty sky made the stars seem very close.  Georgina, her head thrown back, stood gazing upwards.  ‘I do like Christmas--it's a wonderful time.’  She felt his hand tighten on her arm.

“‘Full of the Christmas spirit, I hope, Miss Rodman.’  She brought her gaze down from the sky to the level of his face above hers.  ‘You mean loving and giving?’ she asked simply, like a child.  He said slowly, ‘Yes, that's what I mean--loving and giving.’  He loosened his hold on her arm and added matter-of-factly, ‘Look out for the steps, they're slippery.’  The day promised to be a wholly happy one.”

“Her own presents she carried to her own room; they made quite a large pile, for they had all given her something, from Beatrix's lop-sided pincushion to the Professor's silver Valentine mirror, an exquisite trifle which must have cost a pretty penny...  Much later, in bed, she ... reminded herself that it had been one of the best Christmases she had ever known, and went determinedly to sleep.”