Between the lines on my paper I was ever seeing the old baronial hall that was Tom Temple's home, and the people who had been invited to spend the festive season there.

Presently I began to chide myself for my foolishness.

Why should the thoughts of a Christmas holiday so unfit me, a staid old bachelor of thirty, for my usual work?
Nevertheless it did, so I put on my overcoat, and went away in the direction of Hyde Park in order, if possible, to dispel my fancies.

I did dispel them, and shortly afterwards returned to my lodgings, and did a good morning's work.
Nothing of importance happened between the 18th and the 24th, and early in the afternoon of the latter date I found my way to St.Pancras Station, and booked for the station nearest Tom Temple's home.

Although it was Christmas Eve, I found an empty first-class carriage, and soon comfortably ensconced myself therein.