hers.
Accordingly, as she dressed her hair she sang a cheerful little song
under her breath. Grannie heard her in the kitchen, paused with her
finger on her lip, and enjoined silence for a moment, and then smiled
in a very heart-whole manner.

"To be sure," she murmured to herself "the will of the Lord seems full
o' mercy to-night. Wot do it matter about an old body like me, ef
things go right for the children? Oh, good Lord, I commit these
children to thy care; do for 'em wot is right, and don't trouble about
an old body. I don't count; I know my place is safe enough for me in
the Kingdom. I need not fret about wot is left for this world."

When Alison came out of her room, looking beautiful, and fifty times
too good for the company she was to be with, Grannie gave her a kiss,
which was so full of gladness and meaning as to be almost solemn.

"And Jim will see you home," said the old lady. "Oh, yes, yes!"

"To be sure; but don't sit up, Grannie," said Alison.

"I won't ef you don't wish it, love. You'll find the key under the
mat; now go off, and a Christmas blessin' with you."

Alison departed, and soon afterward the younger children were hustled
off to bed. They were very much excited, and did not at all wish to
retire at this comparatively early hour, but Grannie was peremptory.
She had plenty of work to do after the rogues were asleep, she
murmured. So off to bed they went, with a couple of raisins each by
way of comfort; and when she thought they were snoring she slipped
softly into her room to fetch the brown paper parcels, and the long
woolen stockings which year after year had done duty for the Santa
Claus gifts. If she suspected it, she took good care not to look;
nevertheless, the fact remains that the three little snorers did open
their eyes for a brief moment, and did see the parcels going out, and
the stockings following them, and then turned round to hug each other
in an ecstacy of bliss. On this occasion Alison's companion slept with
her two sisters, and they kept up a little chatter, like birds in a
nest, for quite five minutes after Grannie had left them. She heard
them, of course,--for every sound could be heard in the little
flat,--but she took no notice.

"Bless 'em, how happy they are!" she said to herself. "Bless the Lord,
oh, my soul. I do declare there's a sight o' good to be got out of
life, writers' cramp or not. Now, then, to open these parcels."

The parcels when open