"Did he bring you presents too in the night?" Wendy clamoured.
"Of course I didn't, brat," Mark said quickly. "I didn't bring anyone presents in the night. That's Santa Claus, and he only comes to children."
Hoots of derisive laughter greeted this remark. "We've seen you," Helen told him categorically, "but why don't you wear your whiskers?"
"Bill always used to wear whiskers when I was small," Helen remembered.
"Whiskers have gone out of fashion," Mark informed them with a wink at Fay, and then became suddenly brisk. "Off with you, kids, and get yourselves dressed and decent. Breakfast will be ready in about half an hour. Did you want a bath?" he asked Fay.
"Well, it would be nice—but I don't want to take anyone else's turn," Fay said doubtfully.
"That's all right—it's first come first served in this house.
I'll go next door and run it for you and hold the fort until you come." And with the children at his heels he departed, and Fay could hear him cheerfully humming carols above the noise of the bathwater running.
She slipped quickly into her dressing gown and slippers. In normal circumstances she would have been a little embarrassed at meeting a young man she scarcely knew in the bathroom, but it needed only a few hours in this household to send embarrassment flying.
"Thanks very much," Fay said. "I'll take over now, shall I?"
Mark, who was now silently surveying the steaming, hissing water, turned to look at her, then without preamble he asked, "What's your opinion about illegitimate children?"
Fay was not quite sure whether to treat the question at its face value as a generalisation or whether Mark had some specific case in view, but she dealt with it promptly. "As far as I'm concerned," she told him, "they don't exist. There are illegitimate parents but not illegitimate children."
Suddenly Mark smiled—indeed his whole face lit up. "I couldn't have put it better myself," he commended, and then with a brief nod and a "Have a nice bath," he went out and closed the door behind him.
Even without the hot bath Fay was already feeling warm all through. And from that good beginning the day went on being a good one. She found that if she just accepted oddities as the norm in Toni Travers' house she got on much better and everyone was quite friendly. And the children were definitely on her side now—in fact their partisanship was almost embarrassing at times.
Most of the young people opted for snowballing and the building of a gigantic snowman in the garden for their morning's activity. Fay, however, not enamoured of her first experience of snow and not relishing the thought of getting it down her neck, sought the safety of the kitchen regions.
Here she found a warm welcome from Mrs. Horsfall. "I certainly could do with a bit of help, Miss Gabriel," the housekeeper greeted her, "and there's not one of those others would dream of offering. And being short-staffed over the holidays does make it a headache. We're having dinner mid-
day," she announced, spreading slice after slice of bread as she spoke. "Mrs. Travers didn't like the idea, but I couldn't have got one of the village women to come up this evening, so I told her that it was better for the children not to have a big meal at night. She did accept that—" Mrs. Horsfall sighed. "But she never believes that you can't get staff just for the asking, as it used to be in her young days. Put some ham in those, will you, my dear?" she went on, slapping down a pile of buttered bread in front of Fay. "It is sliced ready. They'll only get sandwiches tonight—with some sweets of course."
"Do you always have a houseful of guests like this?" Fay asked, working fast to keep up with Horsey.
"Not always," Mrs. Horsfall said thoughtfully. "There are times when there's nobody at all—but they're few and far between. The real trouble is that you never know. What with the young ones thinking they can just come and go as they please, and Mrs. Travers as like as not to ask half a dozen guests on the spur of the moment without a word to anyone —well, it makes catering a bit difficult."
"Can't you make Mrs. Travers see that?"
"I've pointed it out till I'm blue in the face and it makes no difference. Sometimes I think it's on purpose—you know, none so blind as those that won't see. The only person who does sometimes manage to register with her is Mark—and not always, at that. But you can't be cross—she's always such a great lady, if you know what I mean."
Fay thought that perfectly summed up Toni Travers. She was already convinced in her own mind that Toni's vagueness had been assumed as a defence mechanism against changes in the old order of things—changes of which she did not approve. But with the years and increasing age the assumption had become a reality.
"Are all these people related to Mrs. Travers in some way?" Fay asked idly as she worked.
Horsey straightened her back for a moment and looked at Fay quizzically. "That's a question we don't go into, and I doubt if Mrs. Travers herself knows the answer to that one. The only one anybody can vouch for is Mark—he's her daughter Margaret's boy—he and his sister and their mother
lived here all together when the children were young. Before your time, of course."
Fay felt rather sorry about that. She would have liked to hear some tales of Mark when he was a child. He would have been a very blond-haired little boy in those days, she thought, which with his dark brown eyes would make a fatal combination.... In the act of putting on the lid of the last of her pile of sandwiches Fay paused. Mark—Mark—Mark
why on earth did her thoughts keep running on that young man? They had only just met, and their paths were not in the least likely to cross again once she had left for St. Edith's. Still, that needn't spoil her stay here at Beechcroft.
Since Horsey did not have any more jobs to give her at the moment Fay left the kitchen regions and made tracks for her room. In the hall she ran into Toni and Mark. Toni was holding a very large bunch of mistletoe and trying to make up her mind where it should hang, while Mark perched on the top of a pair of steps trying patiently to explain why he could not hang it in mid-air and that Toni's idea of driving a nail into the centre of a plaster ceiling was just not practicable.
Toni turned and caught sight of Fay Immediately her face lit up. "Why, angel child, how delightful to see you! A very happy Christmas to you. I do hope you can stay for dinner."
Fay shot a quick glance at Mark, who was looking down at Toni with a half-amused, half-sad smile on his lips. He caught Fay's glance and his eyes asked her to let the old lady down lightly. He did not need to ask, for Fay had a compassion that matched his own when it came to old folks, especially sick ones.
"Oh yes—thank you very much," she reached up and kissed Toni's cheek. "It's so kind of you to ask me—I'm looking forward to it very much indeed."
Suddenly Toni forgot the importance of the question of where to hang the mistletoe and handed it to Fay. "Here, dear, you help Mark with this, will you, please? I want to see Horsey for a moment," and she disappeared through the baize door.
"Here, let's have it," Mark reached down his hand. "We'd
better get it up before Toni comes back or she'll have other ideas !"
Handing the branch to him, Fay remarked, "I should have thought mistletoe was out of date in this year of grace, and in this household."
"Do you have it in Australia?" he asked.
"No, we never did I think perhaps some old diehards do."
"Then you've never experienced it?" Mark's eyebrows shot up. "Then it certainly will have its uses for some of us," he said with the impish schoolboy grin which occasionally broke through and was at such odd variance with his usual suave, debonair assurance.
The eating of the traditional Christmas dishes in truly Dickensian weather and surroundings did not disappoint Fay. It was all exactly as her mother had often portrayed for her, even down to the splitting of the Yule log on the open hearth in the hall The party lingered round that fire between dinner and a welcome cup of tea which appeared about five o'clock when everyone was beginning to shake off the effects of the too good meal they had all eaten. After that the real festivities started with a formal procession headed by Toni, who threw open the drawing room door with a great flourish to reveal the gracious room in darkness except for the myriad twinkling lights on a truly magnificent Christmas tree.
The sight was lovelier than Fay had expected, and she stood for a moment drinking in the stately proportions of the room, the lights of the tree, the gay colours of the wrapped gifts on the tree.
"You look like a child at her first party. How old are you really?" Mark's voice in her ear brought Fay out of her daydream.
"Certainly not a child," she told him, smiling. "I can't help being small. I just didn't grow
anymore
."
"You don't have to apologise. Don't forget that good things come in small—"
Before he could finish the cliché Oonagh, who was standing within earshot and could not possibly have been described as small, interrupted, "For heaven's sake, Mark, make Toni start the distribution. Those kids are driving me mad with their din!"
"Yes, come on, Mark," Helen importuned, "we want to see what we've got !"
Toni gave out the presents herself, but Mark had to hand them to her from the tree.
This was obviously Toni's hour. She was graciousness personified as she handed the gifts to her guests. The children came first, of course, and when she saw the two small girls each receive an envelope at Toni's hand Fay guessed that they had got their school fees paid for another year.
With squeals of delight the children ripped open the envelopes, read the contents rapidly, and then hurled themselves at Toni. "Oh, Toni!" Wendy cried. "You're really fab! Does it truly mean that we can have riding lessons as well?"
Toni nodded. "That's what Mark says you want," she gave a theatrical sigh. "Though I can't think why you want to learn to ride a horse when they haven't even taught you yet how to walk properly."
Each in turn the young people received their gifts. There was a large flat box for Fay, but when Mark handed it to Toni a slight altercation arose.
"This isn't my present for her," Toni objected, and Mark whispered some reply which Fay interpreted to mean that Mark thought that she had been omitted and had himself made good the omission.
Toni's reply was quite audible to the whole room. "Of course I hadn't forgotten—I have it all planned. You had better give it to her yourself." So Mark, looking a trifle uncomfortable, came over and handed her the box.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It was intended to come to you with Toni's compliments—so please forgive if you don't think it quite suitable."
Wendy and Helen were clamouring round her, demanding to help her unwrap her parcel—"You helped us do ours," they pointed out.
Too late Fay interpreted Mark's warning glance. Eager hands had already torn the wrappings from her parcel, and Wendy held up the contents. It was unmistakably a pair of pink nylon pyjamas.
A chorus of witticisms and ribald laughter greeted the
display. The pyjamas were snatched from the child's hands and Bernard was holding them out at arm's length. Oonagh pulled Fay to her feet and the pyjamas were tried against her for size. They appeared to be just right—and that fact called forth another burst of hilarity.
Fay knew that her cheeks were scarlet and she wished she could have remained as unmoved as Mark, who showed no sign of discomfiture except for the fact that he did not meet her eyes.
It was Toni who put an end to the mirth. Fay could not be sure whether Toni disapproved or was trying to rescue her or that she was just plain annoyed at being kept waiting. Whatever the reason she called Mark sharply to heel, and the distribution of presents continued.
At last the tree was stripped of all except its ornaments and the coloured lights, and of course the rather magnificent fairy doll on the top.
There was an instant's silence in which Mark looked enquiringly at his grandmother. She was quick enough to read that glance. "All right, Mark," she said. "I haven't forgotten. Hand me down the fairy, please."
"The fairy? But—" Mark started to demur, but Toni cut him short imperiously. "Please hand it down, Mark."
Mark climbed his steps and unfastened the doll. Toni took it from him and herself advanced to Fay. "There you are, angel child—you've always wanted that since you were a little girl, haven't you? Do take it now with my love and every good wish. May fairyland start for you right here and now."
A burst of applause greeted this little speech and drowned Fay's rather incoherent thanks. She was a little embarrassed at being singled out for what was apparently a great honour, but she was more troubled by Mark's expression. She could not be sure whether he was worried or displeased—and she wished she knew which it was.
Much later in the evening she had an opportunity to find out. This was a day on which Toni's wish was law, and party games had been the order of the day. They had run through the whole gamut—many of them strange to Fay, and indeed to many of the young people, because for the most part they
were the games of Toni's youth and were completely strange to some of the guests. However, everyone joined in with a great deal of energy. When most of them were beginning to flag a little Toni decreed that it was time for Postman's Knock. Fay had heard a lot about this old game from her mother, but had not realised until now that there was no game attached to it at all—it was just an excuse for a good kissing time to be had by all. Like the mistletoe it struck Fay as rather unnecessary in that household where couples were as like as not to be found in a quite uninhibited embrace on the staircase or in the hall.