very spryly and run to
the picture. There was a little ticket stuck in between the glass and
the frame.

"_For Matilda Laval_--with Mrs. Lloyd's thanks and _approbation_."

Matilda looked, rushed back into bed, and arranged herself so that she
could comfortably see the picture, while she thought about it.

"Mrs. Lloyd's thanks"--thanks for what? She must know, she _must_ know,
about the shawl. Yes, she must; I guess mamma told her. And it is mine!
it is mine! There she is, that beautiful thing, the woman hunting for
her lost money; the odd little lamp, and all. It is mine to keep.
Certainly I ought not to wish for another thing for a whole year to
come; I have got so much. This and my watch. O delightful!--I ought to
be good! How lovely the light from that little old lamp is. And that is
the way Jesus looks for us--for people who are lost; lost in the dark.
So he looked for _me_, and found me. And there are such a great many
more lost, that are not found yet. Lost in the dark!--And if He cares
for them so, he must wish his servants to care too, and to look for
them, and save all they can. Then that woman with her pretty lamp just
shews me what I ought to do and how I ought to feel.--

Musing on in this way, very happy, leaning on her elbow to look at the
picture, too warm in the soft air of her room to be disturbed by the
necessity of getting dressed, Matilda noticed at last that the bells
had stopped ringing. It was eight o' clock past, she thought, and time
to get up; but she would look at her watch to see how eight o' clock
looked on its pretty white face. Lo, it was nine! Sunday schools
already beginning their services, while she stood there in her
night-gown; dressing and breakfast yet to be gone through. But the
afternoon was the time for school in the place where Matilda went; so
all was not lost.

And so ended the doings of that Christmas night.

CHAPTER III.

The experience of the morning certainly was rather scattering in its
tendency, as far as any sober thought or work was concerned. The young
people were brimful of life and fun and excitement; and it was not
possible for Matilda to escape the infection. Nevertheless after lunch
she had firmness enough left to put on her coat and hat and trudge off
to Sunday school by herself. Norton said he had not "slept out," and
would not go. Matilda went, with her little watch safe in her breast.

Getting out into the cold air and setting her feet upon