ndoned, but only delayed, with a watery,
quivering smile.

"And I shall be so busy all the morning," went on Mr. Curzon,
cheerfully. "You see, lots of the cottages are cut off from
communication with the outside world, and the children will be hungry
and wanting their breakfasts and dinners; so I must be off to see what
I can do with carts or boats, according to the depth of the water."

This was rather exciting; and Kitty spent her morning with her chair
drawn close to the window, which commanded the best view of the
village, and saw carts drawn by pairs of horses splashing along to some
of the cottages. And to one cottage, standing alone in a low-lying
field, she saw a boat making its way; she was almost sure that the man
who rowed it was her friend Mr. Paul. Later in the morning he paid her
a visit, with a red colour in his face and a cheery ring in his voice.

"I could not get up before, Kitty. We have had such a lot to do, Sally
and I, taking round supplies to the people who are flooded. Everybody
is in quite good spirits--indeed, some of the children are thinking it
first-rate fun."

At the mention of the children Kitty broke down helplessly, and sobbed
aloud.

"Dear me! And I have had such a lot of water all the morning, I did
not expect a shower-bath here. What time do you expect Sally and me?
How long will it take to light up that blessed tree?"

Kitty uncovered one eye; Mr. Paul must be dreaming.

"I can't have it, you see."

"Who said so? Sally and I have been planning all the morning how we
shall order out all my waggons, and go round and fetch your
guests--only you must not have the tree too late, or else we might lose
our way in taking them home again."

Kitty's joy could only find expressions in incoherent exclamations of
delight.

"It's wonderfully kind of you," said the rector, who appeared at that
moment, and gradually gathered from Kitty what Paul proposed to do.

"It seems a pity the thing should be put off," Paul answered a little
awkwardly.

Perhaps no act of the squire's won such universal approbation as the
spirited manner in which he carried through Miss Kitty's tree.

"You would not have thought as he was one to care about the little
ones," said Mrs. Macdonald to Sally.

"And I don't think, honestly, that he is," Sally answered--"with the
exception of Kitty Curzon; his devotion to her is something quite
astonishing."

The tree had been, happily, trimmed the day befor