"Oh, your black will do elegantly, and stick a bit of mistletoe in your hair! Now mind you don't disappoint me, but try to get hold of Liz when she feels Christmassy and soft."
I believe Lizzie was a little sorry for me on Christmas Day; my letters and cards had been so few and there was nothing from India. The drawing-room fire smoked, the turkey was nearly raw, the groaning professor had retired upstairs; on the whole we had a miserable festival.
The village itself wore a convivial air, and from my post in a deep-seated window I commanded a view of the street, and enviously noted the many cheery couples and families passing to and fro. From my niche I was summoned by Lizzie; according to immemorial custom the school-children were to have a treat on Boxing Day, and I was bound to lend a hand with the preparations. Accordingly, I spent the remainder of the holiday helping to ticket presents--taking care to see that there was no cause for jealousy or rivalry in their distribution; for instance, that the Cobbs received nothing that might outshine the Bolters, that little Tommy Ware was _not_ endowed with a knife, or the "Beetle" baby with a box of paints. With unscrupulous subtlety I seized upon this exceptional opportunity, as my confederate had advised, to "talk up to Lizzie."
"Lizzie," I began, "I am still legally what is called an infant, and _I_ should like a treat, too!"
"I only wish I could see my way to your having one, my poor child," she replied, "I know this is a deadly existence for you, and I realise that you do have a _very_ poor time, but what is the alternative?"
"We need not discuss that now, Liz, but the treat is to hand; the Plough and Harrow Inn, at Mirfield, is giving a dance on New Year's Eve, it will be quite a respectable affair, with a piano, a fiddle and sandwiches. Mrs. Soady will chaperon me. Do let me go, my dear Lizzie," and I seized her by the arm, "let me just have one dance, to circulate my blood, and try to feel like other girls!" I paused, and hung almost breathless on her answer. It was a long time in coming, but at last she said,
"Well, of course, the Soadys are all right, but they are not in your class, nor are their friends."
"Now you are talking exactly like Aunt Mina! Never mind the classes--I should like to dance with the masses."