“I’ve been to Sutton Leigh, with the good Queen,” answered Henrietta, gaily.  “I have seen everything—­Sutton Leigh, and the Pleasance, and the church!  And, mamma, Mr. Franklin has asked us to go and dress the church for Christmas!  Is not that what of all things is delightful?  Only think of church-decking!  What I have read and heard of, but I always thought it something too great and too happy for me ever to do.”

“I hope you will be able to succeed in it,” said her mamma.  “What a treat it will be to see your work on Sunday.”

“And you are to help, too, Fred; you and Alexander are to come and reach the high places for us.  But do tell us your adventures.”

Fred had been all over the farm; had been introduced to the whole live stock, including ferrets and the tame hedge-hog; visited the plantations, and assisted at the killing of a stoat; cut his name out on the bark of the old pollard; and, in short, had been supremely happy.  He “was just going to see Dumpling and Vixen’s puppies at Sutton Leigh, when—­”

“When I caught you, my poor boy,” said his mamma; “and very cruel it was, I allow, but I thought you might have gone out again.”

“I had no other thick shoes upstairs; but really, mamma, no one thinks of minding those things.”

“You should have seen him, Henrietta,” said his mother; “his shoes looked as if he had been walking through a river.”

“Well, but so were all the others,” said Fred.

“Very likely, but they are more used to it; and, besides, they are such sturdy fellows.  I should as soon think of a deal board catching cold.  But you—­if there is as much substance in you, it is all height; and you know, Fred, you would find it considerably more tiresome to be laid up with a bad cold.”

“I never catch cold,” said Fred.

“Boys always say so,” said Mrs. Frederick Langford; “it is a—­what shall I call it?—­a puerile delusion, which their mammas can always defeat when they choose by a formidable list of colds and coughs; but I won’t put you in mind of how often you have sat with your feet on the fender croaking like an old raven, and solacing yourself with stick-liquorice and Ivanhoe.”

“You had better allow him to proceed in his pursuit of a cold, mamma,” said Henrietta, “just to see how grandmamma will nurse it.”

A knock at the door here put an end to the conversation, by announcing the arrival of Bennet, Mrs. Frederick Langford’s maid; who had come in such good time that Henrietta was, for once in her life, full dressed a whole quarter of an hour before dinner time.  Nor was her involuntary punctuality without a reward, for the interval of waiting for dinner, sitting round the fire, was particularly enjoyed by Mr. and Mrs. Langford; and Uncle Geoffrey, therefore, always contrived to make it a leisure time; and there was so much merriment in talking over the walk, and discussing the plans for the Pleasance, that Henrietta resolved never again to miss such a pleasant reunion by her own tardiness.