“Fish toss!” echoed his young niece and nephew. The adults broke into uncontrolled laughter.

Darcy smiled in amusement himself.

“What is the name of this piece?” the Colonel asked.

“Ode to Joy by Herr Beethoven,” Georgiana replied with a sad little sigh.

“You do not appear to be very joyful, my dear,” observed the Colonel softly.

“It is just that I do not believe that I shall get the present that I want the most for Christmas.”

“And what present would that be?” inquired the Colonel.

Georgiana leaned over the piano to whisper into Colonel Fitzwilliam’s ear, “A new sister. A particular new sister.”

The Colonel whispered back, “Now that is peculiar, for I wished for a new cousin for Christmas. A particular new cousin.”

And though they spoke in whisper, Darcy could hear their wishes as if they were whispering into his ears.

The Spirit did not tarry, but bade Darcy hold her robe, and passing on above the city sped on to the sea. To Darcy’s horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth.

The Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea until they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the lookout in the bow, the officers who had the watch—dark, ghostly figures in their several stations—but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, “Three Ships” being the most popular. One spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it.

“And it is for certain that the Captain is having a very merry Christmas this year.”

“Aye,” cried the men, “here’s to the Cap’n and his Missus, may many more Christmas days come their way.”

Darcy was then in the Captain’s cabin. A man and a woman occupied the room. Joining their hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas.

“If I harbor any regrets of the past, it is not being able to see your face on Christmas these last six years. Nor to witness your delight in singing Christmas songs this day, Anne,” said the Captain.

“Frederick, please do not find regret in the past. It cannot be changed. Six years may seem long now, but in the sum of our existence are but a few. I fell in love with your youth in my youth. I fell in love with the man you are now, as the woman I am now.”

“You harbor no regrets then?”

“I shall always have a small scar on my heart for what might have been. But it in no way damages the delight for what I have now.”

While listening to the couple and thinking what a solemn thing it was to live without the woman you love for six years, it was a great surprise to Darcy to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Darcy to recognize it as Bingley’s and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at Bingley with approving affability!

“Ha, ha!” laughed Bingley. “Ha, ha, ha!”

“I know of no man who delights more in a laugh than Bingley,” Darcy told the Spirit.

“There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humor,” the Spirit replied. Bingley laughed, and then the assembled family and friends joined in; Elizabeth even managed a smile.

“Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

Elizabeth set down her cup of tea and looked out the window of Netherfield, unconsciously reenacting Darcy’s typical stance. Her face was serious in contrast to those around her.

Jane, Charles, and Mr. Bennet watched her actions with concern. The rest of the party ignored her except for Miss Bingley.

“How interesting,” said Miss Bingley, “that the witty Miss Bennet is not as pleasant as she might be? I should be relieved that she has finally learned to keep her tongue still.”

“Caroline, Miss Bennet might hear you,” cautioned Louisa.

Turning to her sister, Caroline shrugged and said, “He is so very rich, Louisa, and handsome, and he cannot have affections for Miss Bennet or else he would be here. I shall take his absence as a sign that he is over his infatuation.”

Jane approached the window and laid her hand on Elizabeth arm. Shortly before Jane married, Elizabeth had confided a little of her feelings for Darcy to her sister.

“I am well, Jane, perfectly well,” Elizabeth reassured her sister.

“I shall put as much faith in those words as when I voiced the same last summer,” said Jane.

“At least you had some small hope of having your words proven false, while I have none.”

“Oh, but I have hope for you!” said Jane. “And for him. I am sorry for him; I could not be angry with him if I tried. He also suffers, I am sure, Elizabeth.”

“Jane, I wish I could I believe that.”

“It is Christmas, Elizabeth. A time for wishes to come to true.” She hugged her sister.

In the blink of an eye, the room filled with more guests. Everyone was talking about the dinner they had just consumed and praised it for being fine.

“Well! I’m very glad to hear it,” teased Bingley, “because I do not have great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?”

His friend answered, “A bachelor was a wretched outcast, who has no right to express an opinion on the subject. When I find myself in your happy circumstances, I will offer an opinion.” Topper cast his eyes over Elizabeth, clearly taken with this new sister-in-law of his friend. Darcy stepped in front of Elizabeth as if to hide her from the man’s gaze, quite forgetting that the occupants of the room could not see him.

After tea, they had some music. Caroline played on the harp; and Elizabeth played a simple little air, which had been familiar to Darcy from childhood. When this strain of music sounded, his mind drifted to the meeting at Pemberley and memories came upon his mind; he softened with each thought and reflected that he could have listened to her for eternity. His memories were shattered when Mary Bennet took over pianoforte duties.

But the company did not devote the whole evening to music. Games came next, especially their childhood favorites, for it is good to return to childhood sometimes and there never is a better time than Christmas. First they played forfeits, then came the game of blind-man’s bluff that caused Darcy’s jealousy to rise.

The Spirit and Darcy gazed upon the revelers. “The way Topper goes after Elizabeth is an outrage on the credulity of human nature. I no more believe Topper is really blind than I believe he has eyes in his boots,” said Darcy harshly. “Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she goes, there he goes. He always knows where Elizabeth is. He does not try to catch anybody else. My opinion is there is a conspiracy between him and Miss Bingley.” The Ghost of Christmas Present nodded in agreement, only remarking that a pretty young lady of marriageable age often attracted admirers.

Elizabeth laughed, “It is not fair, you never try for anyone else.”

At last, Topper caught her, and under the mistletoe too. Darcy was outraged as Topper stole a kiss that should have gone to him. Elizabeth seemed quite surprised by the kiss, for her mind had not been on this friend of Bingley’s.

Jane had not joined the blind-man’s buff party, but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool, in a snug corner, where the Ghost and Darcy stood close behind her. She did join in the game of How, When, and Where, and she was very good and—to the secret joy of Bingley—beat her sisters hollow. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and after awhile so did Darcy; often forgetting, in the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud (especially when it was Topper’s turn to answer), and very often guessed quite right too.

The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with such favor that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed. “Here is a new game,” said Darcy. “One half hour, Spirit, only one!”

It was a Game called Yes and No, where Bingley had to think of something and the rest must find out what, he only answering yes or no to their questions as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn’t made a show of, and wasn’t led by anybody, and didn’t live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market. At last Mrs. Bennet cried out:

“I have found it out! I know what it is! I know what it is!”

“What is it?” cried Bingley.

“Mr. Darcy!”

“Mama, it certainly is not!” cried Elizabeth. However, there was much admiration for Mrs. Bennet’s answer and only a few objections. Mr. Bingley was one who did object.

“It is not so, my dear Mrs. Bennet. He encouraged me to go after a most precious gift,” said Bingley, looking at Jane, “and it would be ungrateful of me not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mulled wine ready for our hands,” he said as footmen carried trays of wine around the room. “I say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, Darcy, wherever you are!”

“Mr. Darcy!” the guests cried.

“A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth softly.

Darcy had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart that he would have pledged the unconscious Elizabeth in return if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word spoken by Elizabeth and he and the Spirit were again upon their travels.

The Spirit took Darcy to foreign lands where young soldiers read letters from their faithful ladies back home. They stood beside sick beds, where husbands attended their wives and vice versa; they saw couples in poverty; they saw struggling men and their patient wives who held greater hopes, and couples whose hopes had been fulfilled and now lived in riches.

It was a long night, if it were only one night and Darcy had his doubts of this, because the Christmas holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange too, that while not seeming to melt, the candles on the Ghost’s head grew shorter and shorter. Darcy had observed this change, but never spoke of it until they left a children’s Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that the lights were almost out.

“Your candles are almost burnt out; do you not need new ones?”

“These are the only candles that I need. When they are gone, I am gone.”

“Are spirits’ lives so short?” asked Darcy.

“My life upon this globe is very brief,” replied the Ghost. “It ends tonight.”

“Tonight!” cried Darcy.

“Tonight at midnight. Hark! The Time is drawing near.”

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.

“Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,” said Darcy, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe, “but I see something strange and not belonging to yourself protruding from behind your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?”

“It might be a claw, for what little flesh there is upon it,” was the Spirit’s sorrowful reply. “Look here.”

From the folds of her dress, she brought forth two children, a boy and girl, wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, and miserable. They knelt down at her feet and clung upon the outside of her garment.

“Darcy, look down here!” instructed the Ghost.

Their appearance was that of horrible and dreadful monsters. Yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, and wolfish devils that glared out of menacing eyes. Their stained and shriveled hands looked ready to pinch and pull, and tear him into shreds.

Darcy started back, appalled. “Spirit, are they yours?” Darcy asked.

“They are yours,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, fleeing from their father. This boy is Fear. This girl is Pride. Beware of both of them and all of their degree, for much good is prevented when they work together. But most of all beware this boy. For he will take over your life, and you will live in his shadow, instead of he in yours,” warned the Spirit, stretching out her hand towards Rosings, as they were among the hedgerows now.