"Well, I won't burn it to-night," she reflected. "Somehow, I can't do it
just now. I don't see what has got into me! But to-morrow I will. Yes,
to-morrow I will."
She sat down in the armchair and fumbled in the old play box for the
remaining scraps. There were but a few meaningless bits of ribbon and
gauze, with the end of a Christmas candle, the survivor of some past
festival, burned on some tree in the past. All these but the last she
tossed into the fire, where they made a final protesting blaze. The
candle-end fell to the floor unnoticed.
"There! That is the last of the stuff," she exclaimed with grim
satisfaction, shaking the dust from her black silk skirt. "It is all gone
now, thank Heaven, and I can go to bed in peace. No, I forgot Norah. I
suppose I must sit up and wait for her. Bother the girl! She ought to be in
by now. What can she find to amuse her all this time? Christmas Eve!
Fiddlestick! But I have got rid of a lot of rubbish to-night, and that is
worth something."
She sank back in her chair and clasped her hands over her breast with a
sigh. She felt strangely weary. Her eyes sought the clock once more, and
doing so rested upon the Christmas Angel lying beside it. She frowned and
closed her eyes to shut out the sight with its haunting memories and
suggestions----
CHAPTER VII
BEFORE THE FIRE
Suddenly there was a volume of sound outside, and a great brightness filled
the room.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39