would be frozen solid before morning. I guess I shall sleep in my
overcoat and boots. What a lovely face she has, and how it reminds me of
somebody--I don't know whom, unless it is Aunt Hannah, whose face I
seemed to see right side by side with Bessie. They must be awfully poor,
and I wish I had brought her something better for a Christmas present
than this jim-crack," and opening his valise he took out a pretty little
inlaid work-box fitted up with all the necessary appliances, even to a
gold thimble.

Remembering the Christmas at home when a present was as much a part of
that day as his breakfast, Grey had bought the box in London as a gift
to Bessie, and when he caught a glimpse, as he did, of the worn basket,
with its spools and scissors and colored yarns for darning, which
Dorothy gathered up among other articles belonging to Bessie, he was
glad he had made the choice he did. But now, as he surveyed the
apartment and felt how very poor his host and daughter must be, he
wished that he could give them something better than this fanciful box,
which could neither feed nor keep them warm.

As he had finished his toilet in Bessie's room there was nothing now for
him to do except to give an extra twist to his cravat, run his fingers
through his brown hair and then he was ready for the dining-room, where
he found Bessie alone. As a matter of course, Dorothy had gone to Bessie
and told her of the exchange, which delighted her far more than it did
her mistress.

"Mr. Jerrold in that cold, dreary room!" Bessie exclaimed. "Oh,
Dorothy, why did you allow it, and what must he think of us?"

"I could not help myself, darling, for he would have his way," Dorothy
replied. "He was that set on the cold room that you couldn't move him a
jot. His breathing apparatus is out of killer; he has the _tisick_ awful
and can't breathe in a warm room. I shall give him some _cubebs_ to
smoke to-morrow. And don't you worry; he won't freeze. I'll put a bag of
hot water in the bed. He is a very nice young gentleman, if he is an
American."

Bessie knew she could not help herself, but there was a troubled look on
her face when Grey came in, and, approaching her as she stood by the
fire, made some casual remark about the unusual severity of the weather
for the season.

"Yes, it is very cold," she said, adding quickly, as she looked up at
him: "Oh, Mr. Jerrold, Dorothy has told me, and I am so sorry. You do
not know how cold that north chamber