o shut our eyes to it any longer; Carol will never be well
again. It almost seems as if I could not bear it when I think of that
loveliest child doomed to lie there day after day, and, what is still
more, to suffer pain that we are helpless to keep away from her. Merry
Christmas, indeed; it gets to be the saddest day in the year to me!"
and poor Mr. Bird sank into a chair by the table, and buried his face
in his hands, to keep his wife from seeing the tears that would come in
spite of all his efforts. "But, Donald, dear," said sweet Mrs. Bird,
with trembling voice, "Christmas day may not be so merry with us as it
used, but it is very happy, and that is better, and very blessed, and
that is better yet. I suffer chiefly for Carol's sake, but I have
almost given up being sorrowful for my own. I am too happy in the
child, and I see too clearly what she has done for us and for our boys."

"That's true, bless her sweet heart," said Mr. Bird; "she has been
better than a daily sermon in the house ever since she was born, and
especially since she was taken ill."

"Yes, Donald and Paul and Hugh were three strong, willful, boisterous
boys, but you seldom see such tenderness, devotion, thought for others
and self-denial in lads of their years. A quarrel or a hot word is
almost unknown in this house. Why? Carol would hear it, and it would
distress her, she is so full of love and goodness. The boys study with
all their might and main. Why? Partly, at least, because they like to
teach Carol, and amuse her by telling her what they read. When the
seamstress comes, she likes to sew in Miss Carol's room, because there
she forgets her own troubles, which, Heaven knows, are sore enough!
And as for me, Donald, I am a better woman every day for Carol's sake;
I have to be her eyes, ears, feet, hands--her strength, her hope; and
she, my own little child, is my example!"

"I was wrong, dear heart," said Mr. Bird more cheerfully; "we will try
not to repine, but to rejoice instead, that we have an 'angel of the
house' like Carol."

"And as for her future," Mrs. Bird went on, "I think we need not be
over-anxious. I feel as if she did not belong altogether to us, and
when she has done what God sent her for, He will take her back to
Himself--and it may not be very long!" Here it was poor Mrs. Bird's
turn to break down, and Mr. Bird's turn to comfort her.

III.

THE BIRD'S NEST.

Carol herself knew nothing of motherly tears a