ie of nowhere. I have no reason to
believe that my letter went astray, and even if it had, he would have
written again if he had wished to hear. He is alive and well, I know so
much, and I'm well too, and very happy with my boys. I had a bad time
of it, and the suspense had more to do with making me ill than the hard
work of that summer; but now I have faced the worst, and have far too
much to do to be able to mope. Boys are such cheering creatures! They
give you so much work. The very darning of their socks is a
distraction!"

"It would distract me in a very different way!" said Sylvia, with a
smile.

CHAPTER FIVE.

AN INVITATION.

The operation was successful and unsuccessful--that is to say, the fear
of amputation was removed; but it became abundantly evident that it
would be a very long time before Sylvia recovered the power of walking
about with ease.

A few weeks earlier she would have been heartbroken at the prospect of a
spell of crippledom, but the greater troubles eclipse the less, and
compared with that other paralysing dread, it was a passing
inconvenience at which she could afford to smile.

Poor child! her first impulse on recovering from the chloroform had been
to dive to the bottom of the bed to feel if the foot were still there,
and her elastic spirits went up with a bound as she listened to the
surgeon's reassuring report. She was perfectly willing to lie on the
sofa and give up all idea of Christmas festivities, willing, in fact, in
the relief and joy of the moment, to promise anything and everything if
only she might look forward to unimpaired strength in the future.

As for Miss Munns, she rejoiced with grumbling, as her custom was,
mingling thankful speeches with plaints for her own deprivations, to the
mingled distress and amusement of her hearers. Christmas was drawing
near, and there had been no time to prepare for the proper keeping of
the festival, for cook had been too much occupied with jellies and beef-
teas to have any time to spare. There were no mince-pies in the larder,
no plum-puddings in their fat cloth wrappings, no jars of lemon cheese,
no cakes, no shortbread, not so much as a common bun-loaf, and Aunt
Margaret hung her head, and felt that a blot had fallen upon her
escutcheon.

"I can't fancy Christmas with bought mince-pies!" she said sadly. "I've
kept house for forty years and never failed to make four plum-puddings--
one for Christmas Day, one for New Y