e begged to wear her new furs to show Mrs. Hunt, and
was given consent.

The church bells were all ringing as she entered Mrs. Hunt's door.
"I thought you wouldn't get here at all," said Mrs. Hunt in response
to Marian's "Merry Christmas!" "I was getting real anxious about
you. Come right in out of the cold. What made you so late,
chickadee?"

"Because it has been such a glad morning," Marian answered. "I don't
care anything about moving mountains any more, though it would have
been nice to have a tree, too."

"It would, would it? Well, I don't know. Is that for me?" as Marian
presented the book of photographs. "Well, I declare, isn't that you
all over? This is a Christmas gift worth having. What a Miss Dorothy
it is. Come, kiss me, dearie, you couldn't have given me anything I
like better. Now tell me what has made you so glad."

Then Marian displayed her stocking and her furs, and was describing
her typewriter when Mrs. Hunt said: "Then I suppose you won't care
about what I have for you."

"Oh, Auntie Hunt, you know I always care," returned Marian
reproachfully. "I never had a Christmas stocking before, and
I did so want furs."

"Bless her dear heart! Auntie Hunt was only teasing you a little.
Well, I don't believe what I have will wait much longer, so perhaps
we'd better go look at it." And she led the way to the parlor.

Marian wondered at this, for she was not such a stranger as to be
taken there even upon such a day as Christmas. What could Mrs. Hunt
have in there that she couldn't bring into the sitting-room? She had
always had Marian's present and her little basket of goodies set on
a side table and why must they be in the parlor to-day? She
wondered, too, why Mrs. Hunt fumbled at the door-knob and rattled
it a little before she went in, but when she saw at the end of the
room a bright and dazzling Christmas tree, she forgot all else. It
was such a glittering, shining affair, all wonderful ornaments and
gleaming tinsel, and was a joy to look upon, from the flying angel
at the tip-top to the group of sheep on a mossy pasture at the foot.
The impossible had happened. Faith and works had triumphed. The
might of the mustard seed's strength had been proved, and Marian
dropped on her knees before the marvelous vision. "Oh, I am so
happy, Lord. I am so much obliged to you for your loving-kindness,"
she breathed.

"That's just like her," said Mrs. Hunt nodding her head as if to
some one behind her. "You are