ore. Nobody has
ever told her about Christmas before--that it is Jesus Christ's
birthday, I mean; and that that is why everyone is so happy then and
tries to make everyone else happy, just like He used to do. And she
didn't know God made the world, or that He takes care of us, or
anything."

"Poor little girl!" said Mrs. Carew.

"Poor child, indeed!" said the vicar. "I wonder why Monsieur Gen----,"
and then he stopped suddenly, thinking, no doubt, that the children
were quite curious enough already about their foreign neighbours.
"After all, it is not for us to pry into other people's affairs," he
said, with a smile. "Teach little Una all you can about the Bible and
God's love, Norah; but do not worry her with questions about her father
and his doings."

A week later the children went to the Grange for their first morning's
lessons with Una.

"I feel just as if we were going into a magic palace," whispered Norah,
as they waited for the door to be opened.

"And as if we should be turned into snakes and wolves and all sorts of
horrid animals, before we came out again," said Tom.

"Or into one of those marble statues," whispered Dan, as they followed
the servant across the hall to the foot of the staircase, where another
servant met them and led the way upstairs. At the end of a long
passage he paused and flung open a door, standing aside for the
children to pass.

"Here lives the wizard!" murmured Tom under his breath; but it was only
little Una who advanced to meet them across the big, bare room, bowing
primly to each of the three in turn, then turning to introduce the
English governess who was seated at a table near the window.

"Miss Berrill, my good English _gouvernante_," she said; and Miss
Berrill smiled at the child's introduction, and told her to go with her
little friends to take off their hats and coats, and that then she
would try to find out how much they all knew.

The children thoroughly enjoyed those morning lessons and the hour of
play afterwards. Week after week glided by until the Christmas
holidays drew near, and pale, silent, little Una seemed turned into a
different child.

In vain had the children begged for her to spend Christmas Day with
them at the vicarage.

"My daughter does not visit," Monsieur Gen had replied; and the
children felt that there was nothing more to be said.

They still stood very much in awe of Una's tall grave father, who
looked in upon them now and again