y all ter
oncet.--I jest wished Steve could see it. He'd go wild," added the
unconsciously injudicious Marty.

Mrs. White's face darkened instantly.

"It must be very unwholesome to have rooms made so dark and damp," she
said. "I should think people might have more sense."

"Oh, it wa'n't dark a mite!" interrupted Marty, eagerly. "There wuz a
blazin' fire on the hearth in the settin'-room, an' the sun a-streamin'
into both the south winders. It made shadders on the floor, jest as it
does in the woods. I'd jest ha' liked to set down there a spell, and not
do nothin' but watch 'em."

At this moment, a low knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
Marty opened the door, and there stood Mercy herself, holding in her hands
some wreaths of laurel and pine, and a large earthen dish with ferns
growing in it. It was the day before Christmas; and Mercy had been busy
all day, putting up the Christmas decorations in her rooms. As she hung
cross after cross, and wreath after wreath, she thought of the poor,
lonely, and peevish old woman she had seen there weeks before, and
wondered if she would have any Christmas evergreens to brighten her room.

"I don't suppose a man would ever think of such things," thought Mercy.
"I've a great mind to carry her in some. I'll never muster courage to go
in there, unless I go to carry her something; and I may as well do it
first as last. Perhaps she doesn't care any thing about things from the
woods; but I think they may do her good without her knowing it. Besides, I
promised to go." It was now ten days since Stephen, meeting Mercy in the
town one day, had stopped, and said to her, in a half-sad tone which had
touched her,--

"Do you really never mean to come again to see my mother? I do assure you
it would be a great kindness."

His tone conveyed a great deal,--his tone and his eyes. They said as
plainly as words could have said,--

"I know that my mother treated you abominably, I know she is very
disagreeable; but, after all, she is helpless and alone, and if you could
only once get her to like you, and would come and see her now and then, it
would be a kindness to her, and a great help to me; and I do yearn to know
you better; and I never can, unless you will begin the acquaintance by
being on good terms with my mother."

All this Stephen's voice and eyes had said to Mercy's eyes and heart,
while his lips, pronounced the few commonplace words which were addressed
to her ear. All