a great success. Everyone was in good
spirits, and even Mrs. Collinson was astonished at the way in which the
eatables disappeared. The silent William Charles especially
distinguished himself, and was accused of demolishing a full pint of
hazel-nuts in twenty minutes.

Afterwards, with the red blinds drawn, and the great logs blazing on
the hearth, faces were more serious, though not less cheerful, while
Mrs. Collinson read aloud the story of Bethlehem. Stephanie, leaning
back in her chair, could see a great star, cold and silver-pure, around
the edge of the curtain; and it seemed to her, as she listened to the
familiar words, that it must be that star which the wise men saw,
shining upon her with its promise of peace.

Then followed song after song, to which Roger contributed an uncertain
tenor, and Mr. Collinson a thunderous bass. In the midst of warmth and
comfort and merriment, Stephanie felt her own griefs and troubles
slipping further and further away. She lost herself in happy dreams
for the future, which had never appeared so full of hope and cheer.
All her dreams were centred round Dick, and the home he would make for
her when he was twenty-one.

Songs led to stories, and Dick developed unexpected talents, thrilling
them all with legends of Lower Canada, which he had learned no one knew
how. Then Mr. Collinson began a long account of an incident in the war
of 1812, and when he was fairly in the middle of it, Dick signed to
Stephanie, and they both slipped from the room.

Knowing how the Collinsons delighted in the old customs and traditions
of an English Christmas, they had resolved to act the waits, and so
give a finishing touch to that tender illusion built up in the woods of
the New World from the lore and fancy of the Old. Dick dived into his
blanket-coat, and Stephanie wrapped a big shawl about her, and then
they both hurried out at the kitchen door, and so round to the front of
the house again. It was intensely cold and still, so cold that the
motionless air seemed to be heavy and painful to breathe, and stepping
from the warm house was like entering icy water. The stars shone like
steady silver lamps, and the woods were hushed and dark, bound to
silence and desolation beneath the weight of frost. A faint white mist
showed in the northern sky, and presently it spread and broadened, and
the pale green ice-blink began playing and slanting and fading along
its edge.

With their young faces h