nto the
heads of two dozen or so barefooted boys and girls that comprised her
charge were far less hard to bear than the desolation of a home bereft
of mother and brother. Occasionally some one of the neighbors would drop
in of an evening, or one or two of her girl friends come and stay all
night. On Sundays she was, as she always had been, a regular attendant
at the village church, where she formed one of the choir. She had never
encouraged the attentions of any of the young men, who mostly wore the
habiliments of farmers on week days and worse-fitting ones on Sundays,
which accounted for Mrs. Mears' remark that "she held her head perty
middlin' high." It was true in a way, not from any false pride, but
rather because Alice was of a more refined and fastidious nature than
those who "would a-wooing go."

She was like a flower herself, not only in looks, but in delicacy of
feeling and sentiment, and her sweet face, sheltered by a mourning-hat
on Sunday at church, was a magnet that drew the eyes of many a village
swain. The days and weeks of her new life as a teacher passed in
uneventful procession until one by one the leaves had fallen from the
two big elm trees in front of the desolate home, the meadows were but
level fields of snow, and Christmas was only two weeks away. Then she
received a letter from the absent brother that caused her heart to beat
with unusual excitement. It read:

DEAR SIS: Three weeks ago I received a most flattering proposal
from Mr. Nason, Frank's father, who offered me a good salary to
take charge of his law business, and also the chance to accept
anything else that came my way. I have a nice office now in a block
he owns, and am so busy I do not find time to write to you even.
It's an opening of a lifetime, and I owe it mainly to Frank. Now I
am so homesick I am coming up to spend Christmas with you, and I've
invited Frank to come also. We shall be up the day before and stay
till the Monday after. Frank has done so much for me that I want to
entertain him in the best way possible. He knows absolutely nothing
about country life, and it may be dull for him, but he seems
desirous of coming, and so I want you to help me to make it cheerful
for him. To be candid, sis, I think the chance to see you, whom he
has heard me say so much about, is the real loadstone. I enclose a
bit of paper, and I want you to use it all in any wa