in the clouds. But she would be safe where he was.

Years afterward, she was to understand how human and finite love
foreshadowed the eternal. But then she could only believe, and her faith
in her human father was the rock of her salvation.

And when her mother came down she _had_ fallen asleep, but she thought
it would be just as well to leave the lamp burning until Margaret's
return. She would look in now and then to see that it didn't explode.
Burning-fluid was considered rather dangerous stuff.

Hanny was so tired that she slept soundly. It was almost midnight when
the folks came home, and Mrs. Underhill begged Margaret to go to bed
quietly and not disturb her. And it was all light with the sun rising in
the eastern sky and shining in one window when she opened her eyes.
Margaret stood before the glass plaiting her pretty, long hair.

The little girl sat up. Something had happened. There was a great
weight--a great fear. What was it? Oh, yes, this was their room; they
were all alive, for she heard Jim's breezy voice, and Joe, who had
stayed all night, said impatiently:

"Peggy, are you never coming down?"

Hanny sprang out of bed and clasped her little arms about her sister.

"Oh!" with a great exultation in her sweet child's voice--"the world
didn't come to an end, did it? Oh, you beautiful world! I am so glad you
are left. And everybody--only--Margaret, were the people at the church
dreadfully disappointed? What a pity God couldn't have taken those who
wanted to go; but I'm so glad we are left. Oh, you lovely world, you are
too nice to burn up!"

I think there were a great many people in the city just as glad as
Hanny, if they did not put it in the same joyful words.

Margaret smiled. "Hurry, dear," she said, "Joe will have to go, and I
know he wants to see you."

Hanny put on her shoes and stockings, and Margaret helped her with the
rest, washed her and just tied up her hair with a second-best ribbon.
Joseph had eaten his breakfast and was impatiently waiting to say
good-by. John was off already.

Nothing had happened. The world was going on as usual. True there had
been the comet and falling stars and wars and rumors of wars, but the
old world had sailed triumphantly through them all. The dear, old,
splendid world, that was to grow more splendid with the years.

Perhaps it did rouse people to better and kindlier living and more
serious thought. Before Mr. Underhill went away his wife said:

"'Mily