y, and to
be as much at home in our painful situation as circumstances would
allow, and, much also as I liked the notion of our calling everything
about us by home names, I yet shrunk from giving the name of our
beloved home to the hut in which we now seemed doomed to pass our days.
Several times I attempted to begin upon the subject, but it was too
painful and I dared not trust my voice, lest its faltering should show
my companions that this Christmas-day was not one of unmixed pleasure,
and I was the more anxious to restrain my feelings as I could easily
perceive that a little was only wanting to turn our day of feasting into
one of mourning. It was not, therefore, until repeated entreaties had
been urged, that, at last, I said somewhat shortly, and with an effort
of hilarity, "I think we will call our house 'Cartref Pellenig,' or 'The
Distant Home,' because--because--"

_Schillie._--"Well, why, because."

"Oh hush, hush, cousin Schillie," said Lilly, who was always impetuous,
and, throwing her arms round me, she continued, "Don't, dear Mama, my
own Mother, don't cry, I cannot bear it. We shall see home again, we
shall not always live here, we will be so good, we will do everything to
please you. Oh Mother, my own darling Mother, don't cry so."

And so all my efforts were in vain, we were all upset, and the little
house, so late the scene of merriment, now was filled with the voices of
lamentation and woe. Each in their different way mourned and wept, but,
as I said before, it was not so much for ourselves as for others.

We had been so busy, and had so much on our minds that we had thought
of little else than mending our own condition, and doing all we could to
make ourselves comfortable. To the olden heads it had been a time of
great anxiety and trouble, while the younger ones had been forced out of
their proper sphere of dependance, into that of companions, helpers, and
advisers. We had, therefore, but little time to think of those who, it
now struck us, on this Christmas-day, for the first time, would be
suffering under fear and anxiety for our fate.

The same feelings that were so forcibly striking us of the relations,
friends, and neighbours with whom we had always exchanged the happy
Christmas greetings, would, we now began to feel, also strike them. In
our family what gaps would be seen in the heretofore merry Christmas
party. I looked round, Schillie was separated from her children, Gatty,
Zoe, Winifred,