"I dare say," observed Diggs, inattentively. Watson appeared with the
tall step-ladder. "Be a bit lively, Watson. I 'ear Mr. Bingle in the
'all. Go and open the door for Mr. Flanders, Hughes."

Melissa happened to be standing directly beneath the mistletoe. Hughes
took advantage of an opportunity that has become historic. Then he
passed swiftly out of the room, followed by Melissa's astonished: "Oh,
you!" Watson came nimbly down the ladder and emulated the example of
the astonishing Hughes quite before Melissa could recover herself. He
received a resounding smack in return, but from the young woman's open
hand.

"Don't stand under it," he grumbled ruefully, "unless you want to play
the game."

"I'll stand under it as long as I please," said Melissa defiantly,
planting herself firmly on the spot from which Watson had hastily
removed the ladder. She faced Mr. Diggs.

Mr. Diggs coloured. He cleared his throat and then glared at Watson,
who went grinning from the room. Melissa was a very pretty, rosy young
woman, and her eyes flashed dangerously.

"It's a fine old custom," said Mr. Diggs persuasively. "In merry
England we hobserve it--er--you might say religiously, and without
fear of future complications. It can be done in a dignified fashion
if--"

"I don't want to have it done in a dignified fashion," protested
Melissa, lifting her round little chin and pursing her lips