the King of Israel."

As the Noel proceeded, some came in at the window, others at the doors,
and the lower part of the room began to fill with singers and auditors.

The Noel ended: there was a silence, during which the organ was opened,
the bellows blown, and a number of servants and others came into the
room with little lighted tapers, and stood, in a long row, awaiting a
signal from the Squire.

He took out his watch, and, finding it was close on twelve o'clock,
directed the doors to be flung open, that he might hear the great clock
in the hall strike the quarters.

There was a solemn hush of expectation, that made the sensitive heart of
Grace Carden thrill with anticipation.

The clock struck the first quarter--dead silence; the second--the
third--dead silence.

But, at the fourth, and with the first stroke of midnight, out burst the
full organ and fifty voices, with the "Gloria in excelsis Deo;" and, as
that divine hymn surged on, the lighters ran along the walls and lighted
the eighty candles, and, for the first time, the twelve waxen pillars,
so that, as the hymn concluded, the room was in a blaze, and it was
Christmas Day.

Instantly an enormous punch-bowl was brought to the host. He put his
lips to it, and said, "Friends, neighbors, I wish you all a merry
Christmas." Then there was a cheer that made the whole house echo; and,
by this time, the tears were running down Grace Carden's cheeks.

She turned aside, to hide her pious emotion, and found herself right
opposite the picture, with this inscription, large and plain, in the
blaze of light--

"GONE INTO TRADE"

If, in the middle of the pious harmony that had stirred her soul, some
blaring trumpet had played a polka, in another key, it could hardly have
jarred more upon her devotional frame, than did this earthly line, that
glared out between two gigantic yule candles, just lighted in honor of
Him, whose mother was in trade when he was born.

She turned from it with deep repugnance, and seated herself in silence
at the table.

Very early in the supper she made an excuse, and retired to her room:
and, as she went out, her last glance was at the mysterious picture.

She saw it again next morning at breakfast-time; but, it must be owned,
with different eyes. It was no longer contrasted with a religious
ceremony, and with the sentiments of gratitude and humility proper to
that great occasion, when we commemorate His birth, whose mother had
gon