“Happy Christmas,” William murmured politely.

“Sime to you an’ many of them.  ’Ow are you, Missus?  Kid looked arter you all right?  That’s right.  Oh, I sye!  Where’s the grub come from?  Fair mikes me mouth water.  I ‘aven’t seen nuffin’ like this—­not fer some time!”

There was a torrent of explanations, everyone talking at once.  He gave a loud guffaw at the end.

“Well, we’re much obliged to this young gent and this little lady, and now we’ll ’ave a good ole supper.  This is all right, this is!  Now, Missus, you ’ave a good feed.  Now, ’fore we begin, I sye three cheers fer the young gent and little lady.  Come on, now, ’Ip, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooray!  Now, little lady, you come ’ere.  That’s fine, that is!  Now ’oo’ll ’ave a meat pie?  ’Oo’s fer a meat pie?  Come on, Missus!  That’s right.  We’ll all ’ave meat pies!  This ’ere’s sumfin like Christmas, eh?  We’ve not ’ad a Christmas like this—­not for many a long year.  Now, ‘urry up, Kid.  Don’t spend all yer time larfin’.  Now, ladies an’ gents, ’oo’s fer a sausage roll?  All of us?  Come on, then!  I mustn’t eat too ’eavy or I won’t be able to sing to yer aterwards, will I?  I’ve got some fine songs, young gent.  And Kid ’ere ’ll dance fer yer.  She’s a fine little dancer, she is!  Now, come on, ladies an’ gents, sandwiches?  More pies?  Come on!”

They laughed and chattered merrily.  The woman sat up in bed, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.  To William and Joan it was like some strange and wonderful dream.

And at that precise moment Mrs. Brown had sunk down upon the nearest dining-room chair on the verge of tears, and twenty pairs of hungry horrified eyes in twenty clean, staring, open-mouthed little faces surveyed the bare expanse of the dining-room table.  And the cry that went up all round was:—­

“Where’s William?”

And then:—­

“Where’s Joan?”

They searched the house and garden and stable for them in vain.  They sent the twenty enraged guests home supperless and aggrieved.

“Has William eaten all our suppers?” they said.

“Where is he?  Is he dead?”

“People will never forget,” wailed Mrs. Brown.  “It’s simply dreadful.  And where is William?”

They rang up police-stations for miles around.

“If they’ve eaten all that food—­the two of them,” said Mrs. Brown almost distraught, “they’ll die!  They may be dying in some hospital now!  And I do wish Mrs. Murford would stop ringing up about Sadie’s cloak.  I’ve told her it’s not here!”

Meantime there was dancing, and singing, and games, and cracker-pulling in a small house in a back street not very far away.

“I’ve never had such a lovely time in my life,” gasped the Kid breathlessly at the end of one of the many games into which William had initiated them.  “I’ve never, never, never——­”