Margaret said: "The servants have all begged for leave. Most of their
mothers are dying, and if they are not, it's a sister who is going to be
married. Really, it's a servants' ball which the Squire is giving in the
village hall. Mean, I call it, to decoy one's maids just when one needs
them most!"

Tom said: "Beastly jolly dull show anyhow, to spend the day alone with
your brothers and sisters. Better chuck it at once!"

Peg said firmly and with emphasis: "_Heathen!_ Miserable, cold-blooded,
materially-minded _frogs_! Where's your Christmas spirit, I should like
to know? . . . If you have none for yourselves, think of other people.
Think of _me_! I love my Christmas, and I'm not going to give it up for
you or any one else. My very first Christmas at home as a growed-up
lady, and you want to diddle me out of it. . . . Go to! Likewise, avaunt!
Now by my halidom, good sirs, you know not with whom you have to deal.
'Tis my royal pleasure the revels proceed!"

Jack grimaced eloquently at Margaret, who grimaced back.

"With all the pleasure in the world," he said suavely. "Show me a revel,
and I'll revel with the best. I like revels. What I do _not_ like is to
stodge at home eating an indigestible meal, and pretending that I'm full
of glee, when in reality I'm bored to death. If you could suggest a
change. . . ."

Margaret sighed; Tom sniffed; Peg pursed up her lips and thought.
Presently her eyes brightened. "Of course," she remarked tentatively,
"there are the Revells!"