r the carriage came to bear him to the boat bound for
Cuba--to take his farewell of the objects of his deepest regard, and
then went more gravely down stairs than was his wont.

Mrs. Kinalden felt a sort of sorrow as she closed the blinds of his
room, making all dark, and then turned the key in the lock, while puss
preceded her to her own sitting-room, and she bestowed sundry endearing
epithets upon the animal, even patting her back in a friendly sort of
way as she stooped to smooth the rug for her to lie upon. It was
something to miss the step that for years had been heard in the house,
and to see the place that he had so longed filled at table occupied by
another.

Mrs. Kinalden had a heart after all, so you would have thought had you
seen how often the silk handkerchief was applied to her eyes in the
course of that day.

CHAPTER XX.

Christmas came and went, and there were merry times in the parish
school, and in Nannie's home, too. Her stocking was filled to
overflowing by her mother and Pat, and there was a nice present from her
kind teacher, too; but they did not have the tree until Epiphany, for
that the minister said "was the Gentile Christmas, and he thought the
good things and presents upon the tree would help the children to
remember the great and glorious gifts that the Saviour's birth and
manifestation brought to them all."

The little things could scarcely sit still during service in the church,
but kept turning and twisting upon their seats and looking toward the
chapel where the tree was. At last the moment came when they were to
walk in procession around it, so as to have a good view of its beauty
and promise before the articles were distributed.

The minister headed the procession with the parish children, and Nannie
felt her importance materially increased as he took her hand and moved
down the aisle. She had never seen any thing so pretty as the brilliant
scene that had met her gaze when the doors were thrown open, and the
illuminated star and bush appeared to her delighted gaze. "Oh!" thought
she, "the parish school's the school for me;" and she gave little Sammy
Flin, who had come in out of curiosity, an exultant glance as she passed
the pew where he was perched up to get sight of what was going on about
him. "She didn't believe they had such times any where else, or that the
minister led them along before so many people, just as if they were his
own children." She could not see how