Living room of Primrose Hollow, smelled like cinnamon biscuit dough, with a sligh touch of almond flour, to bring that certain lightness, two sheets of biscuits were cooling in the kitchen, that Di had made in the morning according to an old Avonlea-era recipe that she had found in Marilla's recipe book, which had been on Nan's desk, on top of Jerry's latest envelope. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, so the atmosphere was extremely cozy, that morning Nan had hung snowflakes cut from silken colorful tissue paper in carefully predetermined places on the Hollow's windows.

There was a pile of letters on the table, Rilla's distinctly beautiful handwriting adorning one letter, as well as Persis's carefree cursive, Aunt Leslie's calligraphy, in one card with the touch of regency flourishes that Di usually associated most with Una Meredith. Nan had received a long letter from Faith two days before, which Nan had read in thoughtful silence warming her toes near fireplace. There were packing boxes in the corners, half-filled with items. They lent more than usual cluttered air to the cozyness of Hollow´s usual surroundings, and three pairs of lonely, orphaned hyacinths that had not yet spread their fragrance, they lined up with the captivating delicate orchid that Dorian had brought.

Unusually for this afternoon, Hollow was completely empty, suddenly Di decided to use the silence to her advantage, as she walked over to the piano and slammed her hands hard on the cool Ivory keys, as Schubert's Impromptu No. 3 in F minor brust forth, like waterfall, might, shimmering, chords. And distantly Di remembered what Rosemary had once said to her and Una, in the drawing-room of the Manse, one winter's afternoon, as she had played this to them. "Feel the gaps between the notes, let the music breathe, don't rush too much, and watch out for your thumbs, and above all interpret."

Una had nodded in her shy way, sudden determination flashing in her blue almond-shaped eyes, as Rosemary had handed the notes to Una first. And Una had carefully sat down in front of the piano, and Di had seen how her fingers had trembled a little before she had pressed them to the keys, as the music had flowed, and the song had progressed Di's whole body had been overcome by a feeling which it hadn't been jealousy, but something else, because Di had realized right away, Una played better, even then, than she ever could. It was about Schubert's music itself, this particular piece, it seemed to speak to her, in some intimate way that Di couldn't articulate, but that she recognized.

And now, decade and a half later, looking at the notes, of Schubert´s harmony lines, of the bittersweetness of it, it was almost too much. Breathing heavily Di, moved her foot on the pedal, and concentrated, as the cresendo part began. The notes became darker, more fatal, but the brightness of the music became, if possible, even purer.

Suddenly, a cold wind blew in the living room, as Di looked up, towards the door, in the doorway stood Alice, in her modest dark coat, she had a basket on her arm, which seemed to contain small packages. Carefully, Alice closed the door and placed the basket on the small hall table, as she said thoughtfully, "Brilliant, that if I may say so."

Di´s fingers trembled on the keys, as Alice, looked at her seriously, as she said, "I assume that you hardly accept music requests, but if you do, could you perhaps play, Schwanengesang?"

Di, frowned, as she heard how Alice's clipped accent, slipped a bit, as her voice seemed to caress those German words. The urge to argue suddenly flared up as Di pointed out, "Why, now, and why exactly that song of all others? "

Alice smiled faintly as she replied, "I happened to pass Swans Cove recently, so swans have been on my mind lately." With light steps she went to the kitchen, and her soft singing was clearly heard in the living room, strains of Schubert´s Allerseernen.

Ruhn in Frieden alle Seelen,
Die vollbracht ein banges Quälen,
Die vollendet süssen Traum,
Lebenssatt, geboren kaum.

Aus der Welt hinüber schieden:
Alle Seelen ruhn in Frieden!

Liebevoller Mädchen Seelen,
Deren Tränen nicht zu zählen,
Die ein falscher Freund verliess,
Und die blinde Welt verstiess:
Alle, die von hinnen schieden,
Alle Seelen ruhn in Frieden!

Und die nie der Sonne lachten,
Unterm Mond auf Dornen wachten,
Gott, im reinen Himmelslicht,
Einst zu sehn von Angesicht:
Alle, die von hinnen schieden,
Alle Seelen ruhn in Frieden!

A soothing note shimmered, half drowned in the slight clatter of pans and cans. Resolutely, Di closed the piano, and arranged the slightly mixed notes in order. And when Alice came in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of tea, Di remarked, aiming for a purposefully light tone, without succeeding, " Not holiday mood yet, are you not? Does that Schubert song deal with Feast of All Souls, or something like that, I seem to remember Rosemary Meredith once explaining it. I've been meaning to talk to you for a couple of days now. It's been so busy as you know, after that Halifax occasion, and election results, everyone has been running at almost any hours, living here as been like a revolving carousel."

Alice's striped skirt fluttered as she sat with a straight back in the green armchair. Next to the teapot was a pile of wool yarn, bright yellow, forest green and ruby red. Di noticed how Alice's fingers stretched as if by themselves towards Nan's knitting needles, they were standing up in a ball of ruby red yarn, like a pair of sharp daggers, unwittingly Di remembered Cornelia Elliot´s often repeated proveb of "idle hands." Alice folded her fingers resolutely as she glanced questioningly in Di's direction, as Di stated in stilted tone, "I've been thinking. I don't think you need to move out unless you want to do that. This may surprise you as I have been so adamantine earlier. It seems that my exam season has gone quite well, or so Professor Milne has said, unoffically naturally. I have noticed that you've had a lot of letters from Lowbrige this month. I hope is everything alright there?"

The log crackled in the fireplace, and a shower of sparks flew up the chimney.

Alice, nodded thoughtfully as she replied seriously, " Sometimes one yearns for a variation on seasonal favourites, but it must be admitted that I almost vacillated between this and Ave Maria, but this one won, this time. Diana, you don't have to be too generous, as you so often are. I've made a few arrangements for January, but they're not quite locked in yet. It's nice, though, that Sue will be moving here. I'll be spending the holidays strictly in Lowbridge, I suppose. Unless anyone has anything else in mind?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Di saw Alice take out knitting needles from her craft basket, and she began to knit, something light and elusive looking thing that could be anything between a sock, wrist warmers or a scarf. Di pulled Rilla's letter closer, the paper rustled a little, as Di began to read it.

Dearest Di!

Greetings from Glen, everyone is extremely busy, it is the season, naturally. Yesterday Mumsy was up in Four Winds way for a long time, and when she came back she seemed haunted in some way, she tried to cheer up, but that effort was quite wan, almost shadowy. It was totally uncanny as she was only looking at some quite dusty framed yellowed paper with old writing and seals. Later I happened to notice how Mumsy said half to herself, while looking out of the window at the dim snowy landscape, " If I had gone to Queens myself that year, though of course it was impossible, what our meeting would have been like then, before all that happened to her afterwards?"

A certain threshold creaked under my feet, and Mumsy looked at me, with fixed intensity. I got the impression that she was not seeing me at all, but her own memories, or recollections of something else.Later, in effort to cheer her, at teatime I read aloud in the livingroom the story of the cannibalistic barber in Victorian England that Nan had sent me, some time ago. Afterwards Dads naturally began to develop the most outrageous puns. Susan wasn't amused at all, perhaps because most of them had to do with cooking. As a result, Mumsy's eyes sparkled again, so all was well, for a time. But I know that when Nan and you are here, that may be a little easier to Mumsy.

On another piece of news I'm filled to the brim with Junior Reds' latest plan, the Christmas charity night, and I'm asking if you can develop a program that could be used here, that would be helpful. I can't stand how Irene Howard is lording things right now. Apparently, thanks to Aunt Leslie's contacts, a new piano, a Wyatt is coming to Glen maybe in January or March. It is quite something, or at least that's what Una pointed out to me.

It would also be wonderful if Alice could once again cooperate with Irene, if for no other reason than because then the rest of us will be spared Irene's airs.

I have to run downstairs, because apparently Jims has been in a mischievous mood, it's been freezing here so I haven't dared to let him out in the yard, to play in the snow. Now he's somehow managed to get his hands on Susan's favorite Christmas cake pan, and he's beating it with a spoon, commotion here is absolutely wild. And judging by the sounds, Jims won't let go, not even for Gertrude tries, not to mention Mumsy.

One last request, if I may. I should be extremely glad if you could find something extremely elegant from there for Gertrude, as I think it might cheer her up too.

Loving regards,

Rilla

Alice looked up from her sewing when Di made a sudden irritated gesture, little red spots glowing on her cheeks, and gently Alice inquired, "No bad news from Ingelside, I hope?" Di glanced at Alice, Alice read Di's tense posture like an open book, as Di said in her usual stilted tone of voice, which very often was no longer warmed by warm, impish humor, "There is usual chaos, of Jims and errands all over, although Rilla hopes you'll appear with Irene at some Glen´s Junior Reds Christmas function. And on top of that, Rilla expressed a wish that I would get something elegant for Miss Olivier, can you imagine?!"

Alice threw a careful look in Di's direction and said while pouring the still not too tepid tea into greenish and gold colored teacups, " Well, I can take care of that errand, if it suits, if you have a place in mind, after all she is of Lowbrige as of I too." Di quickly tore off a piece of paper and wrote an address as she said, "That place is remarkable, if it's still there."

There was a slight crunch from the carpet as the mail dropped to the floor. Alice and Di exchanged glances and immediately ran to the door. On the slightly shabby carpet was a damp newspaper with the exhausting headlines: A judicial inquiry into the Halifax Explosion is to be held at the Halifax Court House. Royal Navy armed Steamship HMS Stephen Furness has been sunk in the Irish Sea west of the Isle of Man by Huns .And on top of that was a cream-colored envelope that read, in crooked, recognizable handwriting Invitation to New Year Occasion.

Few hours later, in the early evening as Nan arrived laden with packages, she noticed that there was a strange atmosphere, somehow more relaxed than in weeks, and there was a cream-colored invitation on the fireplace. Noticing Nan's look, Di replied rather cheerfully, "Apparently Dorian's Aunt Dorothy is organizing something for New Years."

Alice was humming traditional Christmas carols, as she carefully wrapped up something small and graceful with golden ribbons. The kitchen smelled like plum custard and cinnamon. The only thing missing was the fresh scent of fir-boughs, and mistletoes, but Nan did not want to tempt fate, at all.

In a soft voice, Nan quoted Hardy's Christmas poems, with a fond loving glance at her twin, and Di laughed heartily as she remarked, "Hardy is too modern for you, dear Nanlet, I think!" Nan, hazel eyes twinkling, switched Hardy for Tennyson as she declaimed, "Ring Out, Wild Bells."

Christine Stuart Dawson met Adeline Gardiner at lunch, as was their usual Monday afternoon custom, there were seasonal decorations everywhere. Adeline´s expression were pained as there were extremely victorian plaster angels near their usual table, as well as myrtle ribbons, and ivy and crimson ribbons wrapped around the dining room pillars.

Mischievously Christine inquired, "Addie, in your mind you must have made the interior more stylish, instead of what it is now, or am I wrong?" Adeline, glanced murderously at the angel plaster statues, as she sniffed, extremely eloquently. Her expression was appraising as she said, "I have to say, I never expected to see you perform, in public, that woman who circled you, she was not at all as cheap as I had imagined, her to be for actresses are immoral, especially redheads. But she's one of the few people who could really wear a creamy white shade in her clothes, then she might be quite a respectable sight."

Christine stifled a smile as she said lightly, "Addie, Addie, your deep-rooted prejudices are sometimes tiresome, but at the same time refreshing. I think the reason you brought up my little performance, might be because you were moved, perhaps. Did you know that in ladies' magazines, it is said that auburn and reddish hair is now the fashion shade of the season, and the last echoes of the Victorian era are slowly disappearing. Think of the money that night raised, doesn't the thought of money and charity usually cheer you up?"

Adeline, cut her sandwich with a quick gesture, as she remarked, dryly, with a small sniff, " Well, perhaps I was, but only a small measure. It was nice to get an answer to a riddle at last. Namely that dress you bought a while ago, now I know who it was for. However, that kind of clothing charity is most unlike you, my friend. It seems though that the dress worked, because unless I saw it wrong, some dusty tweedy academic, was circling quite enthusiastically around Alice Parker, as men of certain age are bound to be doing, when there are cotillion of lasses around, in sleek gowns. When the evening was over and the more informal time began, with that dazzling piece of some Bohemian style music that Milne coaxed her to do. How tiresome, it all was!"

Christine, stirred her tea furiously, and Adeline noticed that she seemed, tense, as she answered, with a sleek grace, " Some habits are hard to wean off on, despite my best and most vigorous efforts."

Adeline, raised her eyebrows, and said pointedly, " I tried to look for you afterwards, I couldn't find you as then I had to save my brother."

Christine's eyes twinkled as she replied lightly, stretching her vowels, and hummed playfully few bars of seguidilla, "Oh, you obviously weren't looking very closely. Do tell, what exactly did Roy do?"

Adeline had a look on her face that foreshadowed a headache, which could be due to the music, because Adeline loathed Bizet, a fact that Christine knew very well. So, Christine signaled to the waiter, who poured a carefully cold water into two glasses, and in a low voice, Adeline said, "Well, almost caused unfortunate rucus in a public space, talking to a business acquaintance, but it was very unpleasant. Perhaps you could talk to him?"

Christine, crumbled her bread with small almost twitching gestures, as she replied, "No matter what I say, it won't change Roy's current situation, but I can try if the right opportunity comes up, but no promises." Adeline, nodded quietly, as she replied with dignity, "I would appreciate it, as it would perhaps make things a little easier."

Christine, half-smiling, remembered certain scene in backroom, before performances. The small room had been cluttered, with a few boxes in the corner, a tarnished dressing table with an oval-shaped mirror, and a sofa, it was quiet, although there had been a slight noise in the corridors, as always during the performances, and the various perfumes, cologne and iris powder and vinegar and lemon polish, the scent was soft, almost palpable.

And to her own astonishment, Christine found herself longing for it, this slight nervous tension and the deep satisfaction of smooth runs and thrills, and that soon the audience would experience something that would live only in that space for them, for a few fleeting moments.

Alice had been pacing nervously back and forth, wringing her hands slightly, and every now and then she had cast a light glance in Christine's direction. Softly Christine had walked up to her, as she had hummed lightly Giunse Alfin il momento from Figaro, and as Mozart's lightness shone in the room Alice had looked at Christine and remarked in serious tone, "Too light and airy, not at all for you."

Christine had sat down on the bumpy sofa as she had crossed her ankles and said with a cat-like lightness, "Indeed, but it worked, your nerves aren't so on edge anymore or are they?" The green silk had rustled quietly, as Alice had carefully leaned on the other side of the sofa, as Christine had looked at her with a light consideration as she remarked, " If you happen to want something you have to ask for it. "

Alice, turned and said quietly, "Could you fasten the little clasps on my back, they've come loose and are rubbing a little?" Christine, smiled, as she said, "So, it seems." Christine touched, with her glovless fingers, deep grooved back of silken gown, where indeed two sharp-edged clasps had scratched marks on Alice's skin. In faint way, she noticed that Alice´s skin had smoothesss that was intoxicatingly silky. Alice let out a light suppressed sigh, as Christine slipped the small clasps into place. Christine had whispered, softly, "In Bocca al lupo, my darling."

Then sudden staccato knock had broken the tense charge that had fallen between them. Alice had turned to look at Christine, once, with flushed features, as she had disappeared into the corridor, as there had been a summons.

And then Adeline said sharply, "My dear, what are you dreaming of, or are you perhaps making a Christmas shopping list in your head, for you have not touched your lunch. If you are not going to Manitoba for Christmas, come to Gardiner Hall."

An impish smile came to Christine's eyes as she said, "Thank you, but Manitoba is calling, as I miss my dogs." Adeline, nodded musingly as she said, "Give my best to Andrew, then." Christine fiddled with her rings, as she nodded. Bit later, they walked the bustling streets of Kingsport, where Red Cross collection containers were on every corner, and carol singers sang hymns brightly in the freezing air.

Royal Gardiner sat in his office at Gardiner Hall, a folder full of the latest reports, and grafs in front of him, but he was unable to concentrate, his thoughts were wandering over a scene he had happened to inadvertently witness, at the Halifax Benefit Evening. Collings had been engrossed in a conversation with Adeline a couple of hours before, and Roy had noted that with amusement, pondering that of course his sister would get along with him, even though hardly anyone else did. A truly classically typical Adeline.

There was a pleasant social bustle in the large hall after the performances, there was even a line in front of the donation containers. Roy noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Dorian seemed to be conversing quite enthusiastically in the small group of what appeared to be Redmond's co-eds, and then Dorian's conversation partner turned. The hazy light shone on the red hair and slim silhouette.

Then Collings, in his usual oily tone with a carnal leer said, "Does she happen to give family discount for Gardiner men?" Diana Blythe's silvery laugh sparkled, the echo of that laugh was like a memory from the past as slowly Collings words hit Royal's consciousness and in the blink of an eye he had turned and punched Collings in the jaw. Stunned, Collings staggered back two steps and said sharply, "My word, such temper, perhaps there is some truth to the gossip after all."

Then, rubbing his chin, Collings had disappeared into the crowd, casting a lingering glance towards a red-haired woman in a black dress who had been standing near Dorian and Diana Blythe. Royal had heard Adeline's irritated, pained sigh, as Adeline, raising her skirts, hurried after Collings.

A few moments later, Dorian weaved his way through the dwindling crowd, and by his side walked the same woman who had appeared on stage a couple of hours earlier with Christine. Cautiously, Dorian, leaning on his canes, remarked, reservedly, "Papa, I don't know what Collings just did to make you lose your temper, in public, but nevertheless, I'm pretty sure he deserved it, a thousandfold."

The red-haired woman's dark eyes held a reserved, ironic look as she glanced quickly in Royal's direction, and Royal found to his astonishment that he was standing opposite the same performer that he had gone to see often during this endlessly long fall in the smaller hall of the Kingsport Theater. Up close, and not on a worn stage, in the glare of lights, Miss Roberts seemed small even slight, of stature, and to Roy's astonishment he found it difficult to put an age on her. She could have been anything between 25 to 44. And her presence, that peculiar kind of vivid stillness was captivating, as she just stood attentively, and cautiously looked at her surroundings. Wasn't time of wine and roses bread and butter to her kind in her profession?

Dorian said, "Miss Roberts, your performance today was mesmerizingly memorable." A light, slightly tired smile appeared on the woman's pale face. Royal excitedly remarked, "Indeed, for once I can agree with my dear son!" The black dress, had rustled thinly, as Miss Roberts had nodded slightly, at that compliment which usually always before had brought at least a smile, but not this time, as she had, slipped away, extremely effectively, leaving behind a light lily-like perfume scent that brought to his mind summer nights in Paris.

Blythe's twins had taken Dorian with them, and Roy had heard Dorian's free, happy laugh clear in that space that was full of busy, crowded shadowy deals, in the corners, as ever. And Christine was still nowhere to be seen.

Irritated, Roy drank his warmed champagnge. Walking through the Redmond lobby, he noticed that Adeline seemed to be having a heated conversation with Collings, and Professor Milne, seemed to be conversing, or rather arguing, with another pipe-wielding, tweed-clad academic, "How come those girls aren't on my faculty?!" Milne replied in his lingering style, "Well, my dear colleague, I did say that the standard in this little event was very successful, as you see." "But professionals too, quite ambitious, and surprising! All in all top-form old chap, maybe in the future we can cooperate?"

The corridors of Redmond echoed with the scent of polish and Christmas scents everywhere, as a large bouquet of Amaryllis sat on a graceful cherry table. There was laughter from one of the cabinet rooms, an effortless one that Roy recognized.

Startled, Roy looked up from his disheveled graphs, as a shadow flickered on the threshold, and dependable Thompson said, "Christine Stuart Dawson has come to see you, Mr. Gardiner, she's in the blue drawing room, I ordered tea, just in case." Roy swept the collars of his velvet smoking jacket straight and swept along the steps to the blue salon where Christine sat dressed in blue as usual, she seemed to be curiously examining the interior, and as Roy sat across from her she said, "Is it so bad that you have already sold a few paintings?"

Roy calmly poured tea into a tecup, and handed it to Christine, saying lightly, "A little advice, my friend, if you happen to be entangled in some sort of probably unsavory liason, with some waiter or elevator boy, or perhaps even a gold-diggin co-ed? There are eyes everywhere, and not even closed, locked rooms are absolutely safe in these times."

Roy noted with amusement how Christine's hand, which had been reaching for the teacup, froze in mid-motion, and with a cool biting tone in her voice she stated, "How long have you been sitting on this information, I wonder?"

Roy just smiled, and enjoyed seeing how Christine bristled, as he inquired, "Do you take sugar, I'll never remember how you drink your tea, maybe it's a good thing we never got married, huh?"

The only answer was a piercing silence, as Christine drank her tea while the chilling atmosphere spread to that salon, the piano was being played from the half-open door - Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.