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Authors: The Kissing Bough
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wise lady you are—and kind into the bargain, to cheer me up.”
She studied him a moment, wondering if it was Goderich’s condition that had marred Nick’s mood that evening. “I hope I have succeeded, for you have not added much cheer to this evening’s party so far,” she said frankly.
“Indeed you have.” But his smile, when they returned below, was more wistful than happy. Here was Jane, trying to repay Goderich for a few random acts of kindness, and he, who had been like a cherished son to the old man, forgot to go up and visit him when he had promised he would.
Lady Elizabeth was waiting for them when they entered the saloon. “Are you ready now, Jane?” she asked. “I have gathered the guests in the Music Room for some caroling.”
“You need not have waited for us,” Nick said.
“Jane is to play the pianoforte,” his aunt explained. “My fingers are not as supple as they once were, Nick. I wrote to you about my rheumatism. Let us go along.”
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Jane said, and followed Lady Elizabeth to the Music Room, where the guests stood in a semicircle around the piano, with some of the older folks sitting a little back from the others.
Pelham came forth to greet her. “I’ll turn the pages for you,” he said.
Again Jane sensed some latent hostility in Nick, and said, “Perhaps you would like Aurelia to play for us, Nick. Does she play the pianoforte?”
“I—I don’t know,” he said, and looked embarrassed. “You go ahead, Jane.”
Jane went to the piano and played a simple accompaniment to the old traditional carols, while the group sang. The piano was slightly out of tune; no one had played it since Lady Elizabeth’s bout of rheumatism. None of the singers had a particularly well-trained or beautiful voice, yet the results were not only satisfactory but very moving. For Nicholas, it gave the profound satisfaction of a religious experience. The sensation of peace and well-being he had felt lacking all evening settled on him, and filled him with a glow of happiness.
When he glanced at the window bay, he saw snow falling softly in the blackness of night. How good it was to be home. The lamplight streaming on Jane’s bent head turned her Titian tresses into a crown. No, a halo. A queen would not bow her head so modestly. Her white fingers moved delicately over the keyboard. She glanced up and saw him looking at her, and smiled softly. Yes, this was how his homecoming should be.
Lady Bingham soon glanced out the window and brought the singing to a halt.
“Good gracious, it is snowing! We had best get home or you will be saddled with us all for Christmas, Lizzie,” she exclaimed.
Others saw the snow and joined in the rush to get home. When the last guest was seen from the door, Mrs. Lipton said to her hostess, “It is time for me to retire as well. A lovely party, Lizzie. Just like old times.”
Lizzie accompanied her abovestairs, saying, “It was. I don’t like change at Christmas. When Nick was away ...” Her voice petered out.
“Shall we polish off the mulled wine before we hit the tick?” Pelham suggested, and the others agreed.
“I hope the snow lets up, or there won’t be anyone at your Christmas service tomorrow, Vicar,” Aurelia said.
“Eh? My service?”
“You are the vicar of St. Peter’s.”
“Only the real vicar. George will tend to the service for me. He lives right next door so he will make it, whatever about anyone else. Well, how did you enjoy the party, Miss Aurelia?”
“Very nice.” Then she turned to Nick. “If we are here for Christmas next year, I would like to give the mummers real costumes, Nick. And perhaps we could hire some singers to give us a concert afterwards. Real, professional singers, I mean.”
Nick ignored her other heretical speeches and said, “What do you mean, if we are here?”
“I mean if we decide to spend Christmas here, instead of in London.”
“We always spend Christmas here,” he
She studied him a moment, wondering if it was Goderich’s condition that had marred Nick’s mood that evening. “I hope I have succeeded, for you have not added much cheer to this evening’s party so far,” she said frankly.
“Indeed you have.” But his smile, when they returned below, was more wistful than happy. Here was Jane, trying to repay Goderich for a few random acts of kindness, and he, who had been like a cherished son to the old man, forgot to go up and visit him when he had promised he would.
Lady Elizabeth was waiting for them when they entered the saloon. “Are you ready now, Jane?” she asked. “I have gathered the guests in the Music Room for some caroling.”
“You need not have waited for us,” Nick said.
“Jane is to play the pianoforte,” his aunt explained. “My fingers are not as supple as they once were, Nick. I wrote to you about my rheumatism. Let us go along.”
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Jane said, and followed Lady Elizabeth to the Music Room, where the guests stood in a semicircle around the piano, with some of the older folks sitting a little back from the others.
Pelham came forth to greet her. “I’ll turn the pages for you,” he said.
Again Jane sensed some latent hostility in Nick, and said, “Perhaps you would like Aurelia to play for us, Nick. Does she play the pianoforte?”
“I—I don’t know,” he said, and looked embarrassed. “You go ahead, Jane.”
Jane went to the piano and played a simple accompaniment to the old traditional carols, while the group sang. The piano was slightly out of tune; no one had played it since Lady Elizabeth’s bout of rheumatism. None of the singers had a particularly well-trained or beautiful voice, yet the results were not only satisfactory but very moving. For Nicholas, it gave the profound satisfaction of a religious experience. The sensation of peace and well-being he had felt lacking all evening settled on him, and filled him with a glow of happiness.
When he glanced at the window bay, he saw snow falling softly in the blackness of night. How good it was to be home. The lamplight streaming on Jane’s bent head turned her Titian tresses into a crown. No, a halo. A queen would not bow her head so modestly. Her white fingers moved delicately over the keyboard. She glanced up and saw him looking at her, and smiled softly. Yes, this was how his homecoming should be.
Lady Bingham soon glanced out the window and brought the singing to a halt.
“Good gracious, it is snowing! We had best get home or you will be saddled with us all for Christmas, Lizzie,” she exclaimed.
Others saw the snow and joined in the rush to get home. When the last guest was seen from the door, Mrs. Lipton said to her hostess, “It is time for me to retire as well. A lovely party, Lizzie. Just like old times.”
Lizzie accompanied her abovestairs, saying, “It was. I don’t like change at Christmas. When Nick was away ...” Her voice petered out.
“Shall we polish off the mulled wine before we hit the tick?” Pelham suggested, and the others agreed.
“I hope the snow lets up, or there won’t be anyone at your Christmas service tomorrow, Vicar,” Aurelia said.
“Eh? My service?”
“You are the vicar of St. Peter’s.”
“Only the real vicar. George will tend to the service for me. He lives right next door so he will make it, whatever about anyone else. Well, how did you enjoy the party, Miss Aurelia?”
“Very nice.” Then she turned to Nick. “If we are here for Christmas next year, I would like to give the mummers real costumes, Nick. And perhaps we could hire some singers to give us a concert afterwards. Real, professional singers, I mean.”
Nick ignored her other heretical speeches and said, “What do you mean, if we are here?”
“I mean if we decide to spend Christmas here, instead of in London.”
“We always spend Christmas here,” he
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