The year is 1870-something. Mr Brown is a lucky man. He has married a rich woman (née Thompson) who has a "commanding chest". Relieved of the need to earn a living, Mr Brown and his wife spend their winters in the south of France. In the seventh winter, a note arrives from the Thompson Family H.Q. Roughly speaking, it says: Be at Thompson Hall for Xmas Eve dinner or be damned ever after as do-nothings. P.S. Your sister is getting married.
Mr Brown does not want to go. He is sure the trip into colder climes will bring on a chest complaint. Mrs Brown says it was an offer that could not be refused, therefore, they have no choice but to go. As they make their way northwards, Mr Brown gets progressively sicker until, by they time they reach Paris, he is all but bed-ridden. Mrs Brown tries a home remedy to get her husband back on his feet and ready for travel, and that is when their troubles really begin.
Christmas at Thompson Hall is a nice little comic novella. Not the greatest story in the world, but it does raise a smirk here and there. Of course, it is easy to second-guess the turn of events, but that is of no great matter. The fun lies in seeing how the characters deal with the discomforts of their predicament.
The moral of the story is that Christmas is a time for family and forgiveness. It is interesting to read Trollope's treatment of the themes that Dickens had raised in his Christmas stories. While Christmas at Thompson Hall does not share the genius of A Christmas Carol, neither does it share the dark and harrowing nature of the latter tale. Mr Brown is no Ebenezer Scrooge (his flaw is liking his comfort, not miserliness), and does not need moral rescue for the sake of his futurity, so Trollope's tale is light and comic throughout. Of course, it ends happily (as all Christmas stories should).
Merry Christmas, everyone, and best wishes for the New Year.
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