he should
see him and hear black Joe, who fiddled like the blind piper. The
children kept time with their feet.

The minuet was elegant. Then they had a cotillion in which there was a
great deal of bowing. After that Mr. Adams said they must go home, and
Madam Royall came and talked to Doris in a charming fashion, and then
told Susan, the slim colored maid, to wrap her up head and ears, and in
spite of Mr. Adams' protest Pompey came round with the sleigh.

"I hope you had a nice time," said Madam Royall, as she put a Christmas
box in the little girl's hand.

"I'm just full of joy," she answered with shining eyes. "I couldn't hold
any more unless I grew," laughingly.

They made her promise to come again, and the children kissed her
good-by. Then they were whisked off and set down at their own door in no
time.

"Now you must run to bed. Aunt Elizabeth would be horrified at your
staying up so late."

Miss Recompense was--almost. She had been nodding over the fire.

They went upstairs together. She took a look at Doris, and suddenly the
child clasped her round the waist.

"Oh, dear Miss Recompense, I was so glad about the beautiful sash. Most
of the frocks were prettier than mine. Some had tiny ruffles round the
bottom and the sleeves. But the party was so nice I forgot all about
that. Oh, Miss Recompense, were you ever brimful of happiness, and you
wanted to sing for pure gladness? I think that is the way the birds must
feel."

No, Miss Recompense had never been that happy. A great joy, the delight
of childhood, had been lost out of her life. She had been trained to
believe that for every miserable day you spent bewailing your sins, a
day in heaven would be intensified, and that happiness on earth was a
snare of the Evil One to lead astray. She had gone out in the fields and
bemoaned herself, and wondered how the birds _could_ sing when they had
to die so soon, and how anyone could laugh when he had to answer for
everything at the Day of Judgment.

"Everybody was so delightful, though at first I felt strange. And I did
not make out at all playing graces. That's just beautiful, and I'd like
to know how. And now if you will untie the sash and put it away, and I
am a hundred times obliged to you."

Some of the children she had known would have begged for the sash.
Doris' frank return touched her. Mr. Adams no doubt meant her to keep
it--she would ask him.

And then the happy little girl went to bed, while even