Darcy and the Spirit passed a fruit stall. As some girls went by, they glanced at the hung-up mistletoe and giggled. Darcy looked at it also; he had not understood the appeal of the plant.
“Mistletoe was sacred to the Nordic goddess of love. She decreed that whoever should stand under the mistletoe, no harm would befall them, only a kiss, a token of love. Is it any wonder that those young woman wish to indulge in the tradition?”
“I suppose not,” Darcy replied as they walked on. The blended scents of tea and coffee, cinnamon and other spices filled the morning air. Darcy took a deep breath, letting the scents fill his mind. He had not taken the time to indulge in such a small but glorious pleasure in a long time.
Soon the steeples called all good people to come to church and chapel, and away they went, walking through the streets in their best clothes and with their brightest faces.
In time the bells ceased, and there emerged from the scores of bye-streets innumerable people, carrying their dinners to the bakers’ shops. The sight of these poor revelers appeared to interest the Spirit very much, for she stood with Darcy beside him in a baker’s doorway and, taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from her torch. There was a genial foreshadowing of all the dinners and the progress of their cooking in the thawed blotch of wet above each baker’s oven and where the pavement smoked, as if its stones were cooking too.
It was a very uncommon kind of torch, for once or twice when there were angry words between some dinner-carriers who had jostled each other, she shed a few drops of water on them from it and their good humor was restored directly.
“It’s a shame to quarrel upon Christmas Day.”
“So it is! So it is! Have a Merry Christmas!”
Away the former combatants went, feeling that all was right in their world.
“Is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch?” asked Darcy as they resumed their walk.
“There is. It is my own special spice.”
“Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?” asked Darcy.
“To any kindly given. To a poor one most.”
“Why to a poor one most?” asked Darcy.
“Because it needs it most. My spice makes each dish taste its absolute best. It will cause the food to linger on the tongue and in the belly much longer.”
“Spirit,” said Darcy, after a moment’s thought, “I have done what I could to relieve the suffering of those in my sphere who are more unfortunate than I. No one at Pemberley ever goes hungry,” said Darcy.
“Indeed not!” cried the Spirit. “You oversee those on your estate well, and though it is not wrong to concentrate your goodwill in one place, the world is larger than your estate.”
The good Spirit led Darcy straight to the Gardiners; for there she went and took Darcy with her, holding to her gown, and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled and stopped to bless Edward Gardiner’s dwelling with the sprinkling of her torch.
Mrs. Gardiner, dressed in a fashionable gown that was festooned in ribbons, laid the tablecloth, assisted by Belinda Crachit, the second housemaid, also dressed in her holiday best. The oldest boy, Master Robert Gardiner, plunged his fingers stealthily into the sugarplums, surreptitiously stuffing the sweets into his mouth whenever his mother’s back was turned.
And now the smallest Gardiner, a girl named Alice, came tearing in, screaming, “I smell the goose, I smell the goose!”
“I can smell it also, my dear, there is no need to shout,” Mrs. Gardiner remonstrated as Alice danced merrily around the table. Taking a deep breath, the luxurious scents of sage and onion filled her senses. “Robert, if you do not stop eating those sugarplums, you will have no room for the goose, which means there will be plenty more for the rest of us. Stoke the fire so a more cheerful blaze greets your father.”
Robert swallowed the last of his treats, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Whatever can be keeping your father?” Mrs. Gardiner wondered aloud as she left the dining room. “And your brother, William? And Kate is also late by half-an-hour!” Kate had gone for a walk in the park with her best friend. It was the best way to show off the pretty red coat and furry white muff she received as gifts.
“Here’s Kate, Mother!” As the door opened to let in the older daughter Alice cried, “There is such a goose, Kate!”
“No doubt your special spice is on that goose,” Darcy remarked.
The Spirit smiled, “The little one is in no need of it. She already has all the season she needs.”
“Why, my dear, how cold you are!” said Mrs. Gardiner, rubbing her daughter’s hands. “I thought you would be warm enough in that new coat.”
“I was more than comfortable. We had a wonderful time at the park,” replied the girl, “and it was such a pleasant walk this morning, Mother! The newly fallen snow twinkled like stars.”
“Yes, that is all very well,” replied Mrs. Gardiner as she led the children into the parlor. “Sit down before the fire, my dear, and warm yourself!”
“No, no! Father is coming,” cried Alice, who was everywhere at once. “Hide, Kate, hide!”
So Kate hid herself and in came Edward, the father, looking quite seasonable in a red silk vest; his youngest son, William, was beside him.
“Why, where is Kate?” cried Edward Gardiner, looking round.
“Still at the park,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“At the park?” asked Edward. “She will be late for Christmas Dinner!”
Kate came out of hiding prematurely from behind the door and ran into his arms. “I would never miss dinner. I swear I could smell the goose as soon as I turned the corner.”
Alice grabbed her brother and bore William off to the kitchen, “You have to hear the pudding singing in the copper. You have to!”
“And how did William behave?” asked Mrs. Gardiner as the children left the room.
“As good as gold,” said Edward, “and better. Coming home, he gave the guinea he received for Christmas to a crippled boy, much the same age as himself. He told me afterwards that he helped the boy because he was a cripple and on Christmas Day it is good to remember those less fortunate than himself.” His voice was filled with pride when he related this deed.
Before another word was spoken, William came back, escorted by his sister, and seated himself before the fire.
A servant brought in fixings for Mr. Gardiner’s special Christmas punch and he compounded a hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round. Master Robert, along with Alice, went to check on the goose. Soon they returned with news that dinner was ready to be served.
There was a mad scramble of children to the dining room. The Gardiners quickly sat down for dinner and grace was said. The servants entered with the bird in high procession. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mr. Gardiner, looking slowly all along the carving knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast. When he did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, a murmur of delight arose all round the board. William cried, “Hurrah!” and Alice clapped.
Everyone ate until they had enough, and the youngest Gardiners in particular were steeped in goose and sage and onion to their eyebrows!
But now, Belinda was exchanging the dinner plates in anticipation of dessert. She left the room. In half a minute she returned, flushed but smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and firm, blazing in ignited brandy.
“Oh, what a wonderful pudding!” Edward Gardiner said. Everybody had something to say about it; all praise was sent to Cook.
At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, and the fire made up in the parlor. The punch being tasted and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and chestnuts were roasting in the open fire. Then, all the Gardiner family drew round the hearth.
Golden goblets held the hot stuff from the jug; Edward served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily.
Then Edward proposed: “A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!”
Which all the family echoed.
“God bless us every one!” said William, the last of all.
He sat very close to his father’s side upon his stool. Edward held his hand in his, for he loved his children and was not averse to showing it.
“Spirit,” said Darcy, with an interest he had never felt before, “Why are we here?”
“Quiet,” replied the Ghost, “for you are here to learn.”
“Mr. Darcy!” said Edward Gardiner. “I’ll give you Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy turned speedily on hearing his own name.
“Mr. Darcy?” questioned Mrs. Gardiner. “Why, he is not part of the family nor is he likely to be.”
“My dear,” said Edward, “he has done our family a very good turn this year. Should we not acknowledge it on Christmas Day?”
“It is just that I was hoping that he would be a part of our family by now,” said she, “and you did too. And poor Elizabeth is pining, though she thinks she can hide it.”
Darcy was startled by this information. He glanced at the Spirit who nodded slowly.
“My dear,” was Edward’s mild answer, “we cannot change what has passed. We can only wish him well on this Christmas Day and hope the best for both his and Elizabeth’s futures.”
“You are right, my dear. I will drink his health for Elizabeth’s sake,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “and for his. May there be a long life before him. A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! He will be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt, if he would only wed Elizabeth!”
“Emily!” remonstrated Mr. Gardiner, but in a playful manner. He lifted his glass in toast, “To Mr. Darcy and dear Elizabeth, may they realize that they are made for one another in the New Year!”
Edward Gardiner then read them the Christmas story from the family Bible. Other family stories were related and talked of. Kate told them that morning she had seen a lady and a lord, and how the lord “was much about as tall as Robert,” at which Robert pulled himself up as tall as he was able and, walking on his toes, bowed grandly before each member of his family, who laughed in delight. All this time, the chestnuts and the punch went round and round; and by-and-by they had a song or two.
There was nothing of high mark in this. They were a happy family—grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the Spirit’s torch at parting, Darcy had his eye upon them until the last.
By this time it was getting dark and snowing pretty heavily; and as Darcy and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlors, and all sorts of rooms was wonderful.
The children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls tripped lightly off to some near neighbor’s house, where the single men saw them enter in a glow!
And now, they stopped in front of one particularly grand house.
“My uncle’s house?” asked Darcy.
A light shone from the window of the mansion, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall, they found a cheerful company assembled around a glowing fire. An older man and woman, with their children and their grandchildren, were all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The Earl was singing them a Christmas song; and from time to time, they all joined in the chorus.
Georgiana, who had been playing the piano accompaniment, stilled as the song died. Col. Fitzwilliam came over to the piano and suggested that Georgiana play the new music she had received as a Christmas present. Georgiana began to play.
“I hope you are pleased with your gift?” the Colonel inquired.
“Yes, very much, thank you. And are you pleased with your gift? Fitzwilliam said that you could use it to ward off your many female admirers.”
Fitzwilliam eyed the beautifully carved ebony walking stick. “I would never be so ungentlemanly. Who am I to deny their admiration, especially as it feeds my own vanity?” Colonel Fitzwilliam heaved a great sigh. “Though it is a terrible burden to be the object of so much admiration.”
“Pish-tosh!” cried the Countess.
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