mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look forth
from the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving, however,
a rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and golden
clouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent.

But there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the window
or on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over the garden
and see everything and everybody in it. And what do you think she saw
there? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling children.

Ah, but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe
me, there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with
rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the garden
with the two children!

A stranger though she was, the child seemed to be on as familiar terms
with Violet and Peony, and they with her, as if all the three had been
playmates during the whole of their little lives.

The mother thought to herself that it must certainly be the daughter of
one of the neighbors, and that, seeing Violet and Peony in the garden,
the child had run across the street to play with them.

So this kind lady went to the door, intending to invite the little
runaway into her comfortable parlor; for, now that the sunshine was
withdrawn, the atmosphere out of doors was already growing very cold.

But, after opening the house door, she stood an instant on the
threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in, or
whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted whether
it were a real child after all, or only a light wreath of the new-fallen
snow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the intensely cold
west wind.

There was certainly something very singular in the aspect of the little
stranger. Among all the children of the neighborhood the lady could
remember no such face, with its pure white and delicate rose-color, and
the golden ringlets tossing about the forehead and cheeks.

And as for her dress, which was entirely of white, and fluttering in the
breeze, it was such as no reasonable woman would put upon a little girl
when sending her out to play in the depth of winter. It made this kind
and careful mother shiver only to look at those small feet, with nothing
in the world on them except a very thin pair of white slippers.

Nevertheless, airily as she was clad, the child seemed to feel not the
slightest inconvenience fro