lack
dress I sent?"

"The poor child had on a mourning dress, but I was not aware you sent
it. Losing her mother seems almost to have broken her heart. Poor
Ellice Darrington! Petted and fostered like a hot-house flower, and
then to die a pauper in a hospital! What an awful retribution for her
disobedience to her parents? There is the bell."

"Yes, Auntie, and I must ask you to excuse me. Some of my Sunday-school
class are coming to practise their carols, and conclude a little
holiday preparation, and I hear them now on the steps."

"Did Mitchell show you Leighton's telegram?"

"He told me the good news, that at the last moment Leighton had filled
his pulpit for the holidays, and would preach for us on Christmas. How
delightfully it will revive the dear old days to have him back? Fancy
our hanging up our stockings once more at the foot of Uncle Mitchell's
bed! Your letter must have been eloquent, indeed, to entice him from
the splendors of the metropolis, to the yule log at our quiet 'Lilacs';
and his coming is a tribute of gratitude to you, for all your loving
care of him. I know you are so happy at the thought of taking the Holy
Communion from the hand of your dear boy, that it will consecrate this
Christmas above all others; and I congratulate you heartily, dear Aunt
Patty."

It was late in the afternoon of Saturday, Christmas Eve, when Leo
knocked at the door of Mrs. Singleton's room. A dispirited expression
characterized the countenance usually serene and happy, and between her
brows a perpendicular line marked the advent of anxious foreboding. Her
hopeful scheme had dissolved, vanished like a puff of steam on icy air,
leaving only a teazing memory of mocking failure. Judge Dent's
conference with the District Solicitor, had convinced him of the
futility of any attempt to secure bail; moreover, a message from the
prisoner earnestly exhorted them to abandon all intercessory designs in
her behalf, as she would not accept release on bail, and preferred to
await her trial.

"Good evening, Miss Gordon. If you want to see her, Ned will show you
the way to the chapel, where I left her a while ago. Since her mother's
death, the only comfort she gets, is from the organ; so we let her go
there very often. I would go with you, but I want to finish a black
shawl I am crocheting for her."

The warden escorted his visitor through the chill dim corridors that
had formerly so appalled Beryl's soul, and upon the steps of th