Thompson Hall, redolent of plum-pudding and mince-pie, green of holly, warmed by omnipotent Victorian fireplaces, awaits the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Brown from the south of France.

But they may never make it to Thompson Hall. The story opens in Paris at Le Grand Hotel, where Mr. Brown is down with "a throat-condition" - he is unable to travel to England. Only Mrs. Brown is quite determinded they will go on.

So begins a Christmas tale complicated and simple, pathetic and farcical, embarrassing, - even risque, though of course it could be read aloud to an assembled Victorian family.

--from the book jacket