The Empire Annual for Girls, 1911 | Page 3

crowded portals; equally impossible to attempt to separate such an affectionate family at Christmas-time of all seasons of the year.
[Sidenote: Peg Startles Everybody]
And yet here was Peg deliberately raking up the painful topic; and after the other members of the family had duly reproached and abused, ready to level another bolt at their heads.
"S--uppose we went a burst--hired a car, drove over early in the morning, and marched into church before their very eyes!"
Silence! Sparkling eyes; alert, thoughtful gaze. Could they? Should they? Would it be right? A motor for the day meant an expenditure of four or five pounds, and though the exchequer was in a fairly prosperous condition, five-pound notes could not be treated with indifference. Still, in each mind ran the echo of Peg's words. It was Christmas-time. Why should they not, just for once, give themselves a treat--themselves, and their dear friends into the bargain?
The sparkle deepened; a flash passed from eye to eye, a flash of determination! Without a word of dissent or discussion the proposal was seconded, and carried through.
"Fifty miles! We can't go above twenty-five an hour through those bad roads. We shall have to be off by nine, if we want to be in time for church. What will they think when they see us marching in?"
"No, no, we mustn't do that. Mrs. Revell would be in a fever the whole time, asking herself, 'Will the pudding go round?' It really wouldn't be kind," pleaded Margaret earnestly, and her hearers chuckled reminiscently. Mrs. Revell was a darling, but she was also an appallingly bad housekeeper. Living two miles from the nearest shop, she yet appeared constitutionally incapable of "thinking ahead"; and it was a common experience to behold at the afternoon meal different members of the family partaking respectively of tea, coffee, and cocoa, there being insufficient of any one beverage to go round.
Margaret's sympathies went out involuntarily towards her friend, but her listeners, it is to be feared, were concerned entirely for themselves. It might be the custom to abuse the orthodox Christmas dinner, but since it was a national custom which one did not care to break, it behoved one to have as good a specimen as possible, and the prospect of short commons, and indifferent short commons at that, was not attractive. Who could be sure that the turkey might not arrive at the table singed and charred, and the pudding in a condition of soup?
Schoolboy Tom was quick with a suggestion.
"I say--tell you what! Do the surprise-party business, and take a hamper with us. . . . Only decent thing to do, when you march in four strong to another person's feed. Dennis would love a hamper----"
"Ha! Good! Fine idea! So we will! A real old-fashioned hamper, full of all the good things they are least likely to have. Game pie----"
"Tongue--one of those big, shiny fellows, with scriggles of sugar down his back----"
"Ice-pudding in a tin----"
"Fancy creams----"
"French fruits----"
"Crackers! Handsome ones, with things inside that are worth having----"
"Bon-bons----"
Each one had a fresh suggestion to make, and Margaret scribbled them all down on the ivory tablet which hung from her waist, and promptly adjourned into the kitchen to give the necessary orders, and to rejoice the hearts of her handmaidens by granting a day's leave all round.
On further consideration it was decided to attend early service at home, and to start off on the day's expedition at eleven o'clock, arriving at the Revell homestead about one, by which time it was calculated that the family would have returned from church, and would be hanging aimlessly about the garden, in the very mood of all others to welcome an unexpected excitement.
Christmas Day broke clear and bright. Punctual to the minute the motor came puffing along, the youthful-looking chauffeur drawing up before the door with an air of conscious complaisance.
Despite his very professional attire--perhaps, indeed, because of it--so very youthful did he appear, that Jack was visited by a qualm.
"Er--er--are you going to drive us all the way?" he inquired anxiously. "When I engaged the car, I saw . . . I thought I had arranged with----"
"My father, sir. It was my father you saw. Father said, being Christmas Day, he didn't care to turn out, so he sent me----"
"You are a qualified driver--quite capable . . . ?"
[Sidenote: A Good Start]
The lad smiled, a smile of ineffable calm. His eyelids drooped, the corners of his mouth twitched and were still. He replied with two words only, an unadorned "Yes, sir," but there was a colossal, a Napoleonic confidence in his manner, which proved quite embarrassing to his hearers. Margaret pinched Jack's arm as a protest against further questionings; Jack murmured something extraordinarily like an apology; then they all tumbled into the car, tucked the rugs round their knees, turned up the