down, and
Comfort's father and mother and grandmother were all in bed and
asleep, when a little figure in a white nightgown, holding a lighted
candle, padding softly on little cold bare feet, came down the
stairs. Comfort paused in the entry and listened. She could hear the
clock tick and her father snore. The best parlor door was on the
right. She lifted the brass catch cautiously, and pushed the door
open. Then she stole into the best parlor. The close, icy air smote
her like a breath from the north pole. There was no fire in the best
parlor except on Thanksgiving day, and perhaps twice besides, when
there was company to tea, from fall to spring. The cold therein
seemed condensed and concentrated; the haircloth sofa and chairs and
the mahogany table seemed to give out cold as stoves did heat.

There were two coffin-plates and funeral wreaths, which had belonged
to the uncles of Comfort who had died before she was born, in frames
on the wall, and these always scared Comfort.

She kept her eyes away from them as she went swiftly on her little
bare feet, which had no feeling in them as they pressed the icy
floor, across to the mahogany card-table, whereon was set the
rosewood work-box.

Comfort set her candle on the table, and turned the key of the box
with her stiff fingers. Then she raised the lid noiselessly, and
there lay the ring in a little square compartment of the tray. Next
to it, in the corner square, lay the gold dollar.

Comfort took the ring out, shut the box-lid down, turned the key, and
fled. She thought some one called her name as she went upstairs, and
she stopped and listened; but all she heard was the clock ticking and
her father snoring and her heart beating. Then she kept on to her own
chamber, and put out her candle, and crept into her feather-bed under
the patchwork quilts. There she lay all night, wide awake, with the
gold ring clasped tightly in her little cold fist.

When Comfort came downstairs the next morning there was a bright red
spot on each cheek, and she was trembling as if she had a chill.

Her mother noticed it, and asked if she was cold, and Comfort said,
"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, draw your stool up close to the fire and get warm," said her
mother. "Breakfast is 'tmost ready. You can have some of the pancakes
to carry to school for your dinner."

Comfort sat soberly in the chimney-corner until breakfast was ready,
as her mother bade her. She was very silent, and did not say any