with him, on coming home to supper one evening, a great
thick roll of a bundle, and put it in Nettie's arms, telling her that
was for her New Year.

"For me!" said Nettie, the colour starting a little into her cheeks.

"Yes, for you. Open it, and see."

So Nettie did, with some trouble, and there tumbled out upon the floor a
great heavy warm blanket, new from the shop. Mr. Mathieson thought the
pink in her cheeks was the prettiest thing he had seen in a long while.

"Is this for _me_, father?"

"I mean it to be so. See if it will go on that bed of yours and keep you
warm."

Nettie gave her father some very hearty thanks, which he took in a
silent, pleased way; and then she hastened off with her blanket
upstairs. How thick and warm it was! and how nicely it would keep her
comfortable when she knelt, all wrapped up in it, on that cold floor.
For a little while it would; not even a warm blanket would keep her from
the cold more than a little while at a time up there. But Nettie tried
its powers the first thing she did.

Did Mr. Mathieson mean the blanket to take the place of his promise?
Nettie thought of that, but like a wise child she said nothing at all
till the Sunday morning came. Then, before she set off for
Sunday-school, she came to her father's elbow.

"Father, I'll be home a quarter after ten; will you be ready then?"

"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson.

"For my New Year's," said Nettie. "You know you promised I should go to
church with you."

"Did I? And aint you going to take the blanket for your New Year's, and
let me off, Nettie?"

"No, father, to be sure not. I'll be home at a quarter past; please
don't forget." And Nettie went off to school very thankful and happy,
for her father's tone was not unkind. How glad she was New Year's day
had come on Sunday.

Mr. Mathieson was as good as his word. He was ready at the time, and
they walked to the church together. That was a great day to Nettie. Her
father and mother going to church in company with her and with each
other. But nobody that saw her sober sweet little face would have
guessed how very full her heart was of prayer, even as they walked along
the street among the rest of the people. And when they got to church, it
seemed as if every word of the prayers and of the reading and of the
hymns and of the sermon, struck on all Nettie's nerves of hearing and
feeling. Would her father understand any of those sweet words? would he
feel them? w