so much happier, and more contented than she used to be,"
one said.

"Mine, too," another added. "I can't be glad enough for the Camp Fire.
Johnny's a Scout an' that's a mighty good thing, too, but for girls
there's nothing like the Camp Fire."

"Eva used to hate housework, but now she does it thinkin' about the
beads she's getting, and she don't hardly ever fret over it," Mrs.
Bicknell confided.

"These things you are saying are the very best Christmas gift I could
possibly have," Laura told them, with shining eyes.

And the girls themselves, as they bade her good-night said words that
added yet more to the full cup of her Christmas joy.

"O, it pays, father--this work with my girls," she said, when all had
gone, and they two sat together before the fire. "It has been such a
beautiful, beautiful Christmas!"

XIV

LIZETTE

The last night of December brought a heavy storm of sleety rain, with a
bitter north wind. Laura, reading beside the fire, heard the doorbell
ring, and presently Olga Priest appeared. The biting wind had whipped a
fresh colour into her cheeks, and her eyes were clear and shining under
her heavy brows.

"You aren't afraid of bad weather, Olga," Laura said as she greeted the
girl.

"All weather is the same to me," Olga returned indifferently, but as she
sat down Laura cried out,

"Why, child, your feet are soaking wet! Surely you did not come without
rubbers in such a storm!"

"I forgot them. It's no matter," Olga said, drawing her wet feet under
her skirts.

"I'll be back in a moment," Laura replied, and left the room, returning
with dry stockings and slippers.

"Take off those wet things and heat your feet thoroughly--then put these
on," she ordered in a tone that admitted of no refusal.

With a frown, Olga obeyed. "But it's nonsense--I never mind wet feet,"
she grumbled.

"You ought to mind them. Your health is a gift. You have no right to
throw it away--no _right_, Olga. It is yours--only to _use_--like
everything else you have."

Olga paused, one slipper in her hand, pondering that.

"Don't you see, Olga," Laura urged gently, "we are only stewards.
Everything we have--health, time, money, intellect--all are ours only to
use the little while we are in this world, and not to use for ourselves
alone."

"It makes life harder if you believe that," Olga flung back defiantly.
"I want my things for myself."

"O no, it makes life easier, and O, so big and beautiful!" Lau