Christmas at Thompson Hall

When Mr. Brown is sick in bed with a cough in a Paris hotel on the eve of Christmas, it is not entirely inconvenient for him: this year, his wife really wanted to celebrate with the extended family at the family estate, but he has no desire whatsoever to leave early the next day. Mrs. Brown will not accept any excuses, and to help her husband regain his strength quickly, she promises him a mustard poultice to soothe his cough. But where to get mustard in the middle of the night in a strange hotel? Mrs. Brown wanders through the dark corridors, but when she finally manages to apply the mustard poultice, she experiences a surprise ...

»Trollope did not write for posterity. He wrote for the day, the moment; but these are just the writers whom posterity is apt to put into its pocket.« Henry James

»A wise man told me I would learn more about life from a great novelist than from any other source. I did not believe him. Now I wouldn’t dream of going on holiday without a Trollope. He has enlarged my world.« Sir Alec Guinness