y face again, and Joan's sleepy eyes, as they stood
beside her singing the New Year hymn, as soon as the clock had finished
striking. The familiar verses of the hymn ran through her mind till she
came to the last but one--

Oh! that each in the day of His coming may say,
"I have fought my way through,
I have finished the work Thou didst give me to do."

But Aunt Priscilla felt that she had not finished the work the Lord had
given her to do for Rhoda; she had not even begun what He had given her
to do for little Joan. If Rhoda had sinned against her, surely she had
sinned against Christ.

With a heavy sob she rose from her knees and went downstairs. The house
was empty, except that Joan and the baby were sleeping in Rhoda's old
bedroom; for all the rest had gone to keep the watch-night in a chapel
two miles or more away. The house-door was not fastened, and she had
only to lift the latch in order to open it. There was not the slightest
sound from the threshold outside where Rhoda was crouching; no moaning
or sobbing, no movement of any kind. Aunt Priscilla opened the door
very gently and noiselessly.

"Rhoda!" she said, very pitifully.

But the girl did not answer her. She stooped down and raised her up
against her shoulder. Oh! what a small, light burden she seemed, no
heavier than when she was a young child like Joan. Aunt Priscilla lifted
her quite easily in her arms, and carried her upstairs and laid her on
the bed. Then she struck a light, and, shading it with her hand, looked
down on Rhoda's face, as she had done many a time when she had been a
sleeping child. The face was sharp and thin and death-like; she looked
like one who had perished from hunger and want. Was she really dead?

[Illustration: JOAN SAW HER AUNT STANDING BY HER BEDSIDE]

Little Joan was awakened suddenly from a sound sleep, and saw her aunt
standing by her bedside, looking to her dazzled eyes a very image of
terror. The child uttered a shrill scream, and threw both her arms
round the baby, who was lying on a pillow beside her. She thought Aunt
Priscilla had come, knowing that everybody was gone out, to take away
the Christmas child. She must defend him with all her might.

"Get up, Joan," said Aunt Priscilla. "Rhoda is come home, and you must
bring the little baby to her."

She had not seen the child before; and now she stood looking down on the
small sleeping face with tears streaming from her eyes. She bent over
him and