rgive me."

"No, it wasn't you, neither," said Prudy, whose good humor was restored
the moment Susy had made what she considered due confession. "You never
touched me, Susy! It was the _chair_; and I love you just as dearly as
ever I did."

Prudy lay on the sofa for some time, looking quite pale by the
gas-light, while her mother rubbed her side, and the rest of the family
stood looking at her with anxious faces.

It was quite an important occasion for Prudy, who always liked to be the
centre of attraction.

"O, mamma," said she, closing her eyes languidly, "when the room makes
believe whirl round, does it _truly_ whirl round?"

The truth was, she felt faint and dizzy, though only for a short time.

"I wish," said she, "it had been somebody else that fell down stairs,
and not me, for I didn't go down easy! The _prongs_ of the chair pushed
right into my side."

But it did not appear that Prudy was much injured, after all. In a few
minutes she was skipping about the room almost as nimbly as ever, only
stopping to groan every now and then, when she happened to think of it.

"It is a wonder," said Mr. Parlin, "that more children are not lamed for
life by such accidents."

"I have often thought of it," said aunt Madge. "Some little ones seem to
be making hair-breadth escapes almost every day of their lives. I
believe Prudy would have been in her grave long ago, if it had not been
for her guardian angel."

The long-expected Christmas had come at last, and Prudy had stumbled
into it, as she stumbled into everything else. But it is an ill wind
which blows no good to anybody; and it so happened that in all this
confusion Susy was able to "wish a Merry Christmas" to Norah, and to the
whole family besides.

When Mrs. Parlin found that the children were too thoroughly awake to go
to sleep again that morning, she told them they might dress themselves
in the parlor if they would keep as quiet as possible, and let the rest
of the household take another nap.

It all seemed very strange and delightful to the little girls. It was
like another sort of life, this new arrangement of stealing about the
house in the silent hours before daybreak. Susy thought she should like
to sit up all night, and sleep all day, if the mayor would only hush the
streets; it would be so odd!

"O, how dark the clouds are!" said Prudy, peeping out of the window; "it
_fogs_ so I can't see a single thing. Susy, I'm going to keep _at watch_
of the