We gathered around to admire an enormous log—a great fallen oak limb, actually—then worked together to heft it onto the sled, which promptly sank into the mushy snow and wouldn’t move. So we had to use the wagon. Even with all of us lifting and grunting it was jolly heavy and we were glad that the horse had to transport it down the hill and not us. As we made our way home the light was rapidly fading, bathing the world in a dusky pink glow.

“We will take the log into the house and light it after dinner,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said, “and if all goes well it should burn all through Christmas Day to bring us luck.”

As soon as we had taken off our coats and hats, Dickson the butler appeared with a punch bowl of steaming mulled wine and a tray of hot sausage rolls. This time I sipped slowly, warming up my fingers on the glass.

“Right, now we all have more work to do before dinner.” Lady Hawse-Gorzley took control again before anyone could slip away. “It’s time to decorate the Christmas tree. Lights in this box, glass ornaments here, tinsel garlands over there. You should be able to reach the upper portion of the tree by leaning through the banister, and I suggest you boys put the lights and ornaments on the upper part.”

We set to work hanging the delicate ornaments—trumpets and birds, gnomes and balls, then adding the finishing touches of pinecones, sugar mice, tinsel. When the lights were finally plugged in, the tree sparkled with a magical glow and the company broke into applause.

This time we dressed formally for dinner, except for Junior, who joined us in an awful blue-and-white-checked jacket. Mrs. Upthorpe and Ethel were sporting their Parisian gowns, which somehow failed to make them look elegant. I know that’s uncharitable of me, but I was trying to be an unbiased observer. I also wished that it could have been summer, not winter, as I too possessed a Chanel evening gown—designed for me by Coco herself. But alas it was a light chiffon and quite unsuitable for a winter gathering. And so I was stuck with my aged burgundy velvet. At least I had a strand of family rubies that took the attention away from where Queenie had brushed the fabric the wrong way.