e
came back to him that sentence, "_Whoso offendeth one of these little
ones, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his
neck_--."

Livingstone fairly shivered, but he had able defenders.

"Oh, Kitty!" exclaimed both her father and mother, aghast at the child's
bitterness.

They next tried the argument that Livingstone had been so kind to the
father. He had "given him last year fifty dollars besides his salary."

Livingstone was not surprised that this argument did not prove as
availing with the child as the parents appeared to expect.--Fifty
dollars! He hated himself for it. He felt that he would give fifty
thousand to drop that millstone from his neck.

They next tried the argument that Livingstone wanted to have a
Christmas-tree for poor children and needed her help. He wanted her to
go with him to a toy-shop. He did not know what to get and wished her to
tell him. He had his sleigh to take her.

This seemed to strike one of the other members of the family, for
suddenly a boy's eager voice burst in:

"I'll go with him. I'll go with him in a sleigh. I'll go to the
toy-shop. Maybe, he'll give me a sled. Papa, mamma, please let me go."

This offer, however, did not appear to meet all the requisites of the
occasion and Master Tom was speedily suppressed by his parents. Perhaps,
however, his offer had some effect on Kitty, for she finally assented
and said she would go, and Livingstone could hear the parents getting
her ready. He felt like a reprieved prisoner.

After a few moments Mr. Clark brought the little girl in, cloaked and
hooded and ready to go.

When Livingstone faced the two blue eyes that were fastened on him in
calm, and, by no means, wholly approving inspection, he felt like a
deep-dyed culprit. Had he known of this ordeal in advance he could not
have faced it, but as it was he must now carry it through.

What he did was, perhaps, the best that any one could have done. After
the cool, little handshake she vouchsafed him, Livingstone, finding that
he could not stand the scrutiny of those quiet, unblenching eyes, threw
himself on the child's mercy.

"Kitty," he said earnestly, "I did you this evening a great wrong, and
your father a great wrong, and I have come here to ask you to forgive
me.--I have been working so hard that I did not know it was Christmas,
and I interfered with your father's Christmas--and with your Christmas;
for I had no little girls to tell me how near Chr