A door opened across the wide hall; Nathaniel’s voice came to Mathilda’s ears. ‘Damn you, stop pawing me about! For two pins, I’d turn the whole lot of them out of doors, bag and baggage!’

Mathilda smiled to herself. Joseph at it again!

‘Now, Nat, old fellow, you know you don’t mean that! Let’s talk the whole thing over quietly together!’

‘I don’t want to talk it over!’ shouted Nathaniel. ‘And don’t call me old fellow! You’ve done enough, inviting all these people to my house, and turning it into a damned bazaar! Paper-streamers! Mistletoe! I won’t have it! Next you’ll want to dress up as Santa Claus! I hate Christmas, do you hear me? Loathe it! abominate it!’

‘Not you, Nat!’ Joseph said. ‘You’re just an old curmudgeon, and you’re upset because you didn’t like young Roydon’s play. Well, I didn’t care for it either, if you want to know, but, my dear old chap, youth must be served!’

‘Not in my house!’ snarled Nathaniel. ‘Don’t come upstairs with me! I don’t want you!’

Mathilda heard him stump up the four stairs which led to the first half-landing. A crash which she had no difficulty in recognising followed. Nathaniel, she deduced, had knocked over the steps.

She strolled to the door. The steps lay on the ground, and Joseph was tenderly assisting his brother to rise from his knees.

‘My dear Nat, I’m so sorry! I’m afraid it was my fault,’ he said remorsefully. ‘I’m a careless fellow! I had meant to have finished my poor little decorations before this!’

‘Take them down!’ ordered Nathaniel in a strangled voice. ‘All of them! This instant! Clumsy jackass! My lumbago!’

These dread words struck Joseph to silence. Nathaniel went upstairs, clinging to the handrail, once more a helpless cripple.

‘Oh dear!’ said Joseph ridiculously. ‘I never thought they would be in anyone’s way, Nat!’

Nathaniel returned no answer, but dragged his painful way upstairs to his bedroom. Mathilda heard a door slam, and laughed.

Joseph looked round quickly. ‘Tilda! I thought you’d gone up! Oh dear, dear, did you see what happened? Most unfortunate!’

‘I did. I knew those steps of yours would be the death of someone.’

Joseph picked them up. ‘Well, my dear, I don’t want to tell tales out of school, but Nat’s a naughty old man. He deliberately knocked them over! All that fuss!’

‘I could wish that you hadn’t left them there,’ Mathilda said. ‘Lumbago, I feel, will be our only topic of conversation this evening.’

He smiled, but shook his head. ‘No, no, that isn’t quite fair! He has got lumbago, you know, and it is very painful. We must put our heads together, you and I, Tilda.’

‘Not me,’ said Mathilda vulgarly.

‘My dear, I’m relying on you. Nat likes you, and we must smooth him down! Now, I’ll just put these steps out of harm’s way, and then we’ll think what can be done.’

‘I,’ said Mathilda firmly, ‘am going upstairs to change.’