Read Mr. Darcy's Christmas Carol for Free Online Page B

Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”
    â€œLeave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!”
    The Ghost took a step away from him and then another, her light getting fainter, and repeated, “That the shadows are what they are, do not blame me!” each word further diminishing her light and appearance. Darcy observed a final burst of light that was burning so high and bright that he was forced to close his eyes.
    When he opened them again, he was conscious of being alone, exhausted, and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his own bedroom. He gave the pillow a welcoming squeeze as he crawled into bed; and he had barely time to lie full on the bed before he sank into a heavy sleep.
    The Ghost appeared beside the bed. Gently, it brushed a lock of Darcy’s hair away from his forehead. He mumbled in his sleep and the Spirit disappeared.

Chapter 3
    Christmas Present
    Waking suddenly and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Darcy had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of one. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the nick of time for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him. But, finding that he dreaded the thought of not knowing which of his curtains this new specter would draw back, he put every one of them aside with his own hands and, lying down again, established a sharp lookout all round the bed. He did not wish to be taken by surprise and made nervous. Darcy wished to challenge the Spirit on the moment of its appearance.
    He was ready for a good, broad field of strange appearances, and nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much.
    Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; the bell struck one and no shape appeared. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet nothing came. All this time, a blaze of light streamed upon the clock as it proclaimed the hour; and which, being the only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant. At last, however, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly and went to the door.
    The moment Darcy’s hand touched the lock a familiar voice called him by his name and bade him enter. He obeyed.
    It was his sitting room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green that it looked a perfect grove. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light. A mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were poultry, great joints of meat, mince pies, plum puddings, red-hot chestnuts, fruits, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, which perfumed the chamber with their delicious steam.
    In easy state upon a couch, there sat Georgiana, glorious to see: bearing a glowing torch, in a shape not unlike a horn of plenty, and holding it up, high up, to shed its light on Darcy as he came round the door.
    â€œCome in!” exclaimed the Ghost. “Come in, and know me better!”
    Darcy entered rapidly, “Georgiana, what is the meaning of this? Why are you not at Matlock House?” he demanded.
    â€œI am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me!”
    Darcy did so. She was clothed in one simple green dress, bordered with white fur. Her feet, observable beneath the gown, were bare, and on her head she wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with burning candles. Her blonde curls were long and free, her face was genial, her eyes were sparkling, her hands were