led and burned with a warm
Christmas glow, and Charlie, uncurling his soft silky body, stretched
out each one of his tiny paws separately, with slow movements expressive
of intense comfort. If ever that little dog had known what it was to lie
in the lap of luxury amid aristocratic surroundings, it was certain that
he was conscious of being as well off in a poor cottage as in a palace
of a king. And after a minute or two, Helmsley raised himself in his
chair and held out his hand to Angus Reay, who grasped it warmly.

"I'll do my best,"--he said, quietly--"I know what you mean--and I think
your feeling does you honour. Of course you know I'm only a kind of
stranger here--just a poor old lonely man, very dependent on Miss Deane
for her care of me, and trying my best to show that I'm not ungrateful
to her for all her goodness--and I mustn't presume too far--but--I'll do
my best. And I hope--I hope all will be well!" He paused--and pressed
Reay's hand again--then glanced up at the quaint sheep-faced clock that
ticked monotonously against the kitchen wall. "She will be coming back
from church directly,"--he continued--"Won't you go and meet her?"

"Shall I?" And Reay's face brightened.

"Do!"

Another moment, and Helmsley was alone--save for the silent company of
the little dog stretched out upon the hearth. And he lost himself in a
profound reverie, the while he built a castle in the air of his own
designing, in which Self had no part. How many airy fabrics of beauty
and joy had he not raised one after the other in his mind, only to see
them crumble into dust!--but this one, as he planned it in his thoughts,
nobly uplifted above all petty limits, with all the light of a broad
beneficence shining upon it, and a grand obliteration of his own
personality serving as the very cornerstone of its foundation, seemed
likely to be something resembling the house spoken of by Christ, which
was built upon a rock--against which neither winds, nor rains, nor
floods could prevail. And when Mary came back from Church, with Reay
accompanying her, she found him looking very happy. In fact, she told
him he had quite "a Christmas face."

"What is a Christmas face, Mary?" he asked, smiling.

"Don't you know? A face that looks glad because other people are
glad,"--she replied, simply.

An expressive glance flashed from Reay's eyes,--a glance which Helmsley
caught and understood in all its eloquent meaning.

"We had quite a touching littl