Miss Terry opened her eyes. The fire was burning red; but a
yellow light, as from thousands of candles, shone in at the window, and
there was the sound of singing,--the sweetest singing that Miss Terry had
ever heard.
"An Angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around."
The words seemed chanted by the voices of young angels. Miss Terry passed
her hands over her eyes and glanced at the clock. But what the hour was she
never noticed, for her gaze was filled with something else. Beside the
clock, in the spot where she had laid it a few minutes before, was the
Christmas Angel. But now, instead of lying helplessly on its back, it was
standing on rosy feet, with arms outstretched toward her. Over its head
fluttered gauzy wings. From under the yellow hair which rippled over the
shoulders two blue eyes beamed kindly upon her, and the mouth widened into
the sweetest smile.
"Peace on earth to men of good-will!" cried the Angel, and the tone of his
speech was music, yet quite natural and thrilling.
Miss Terry stared hard at the Angel and rubbed her eyes, saying to herself,
"Fiddlestick! I am dreaming!"
But she could not rub away the vision. When she opened her eyes the Angel
still stood tiptoe on the mantel-shelf, smiling at her and shaking his
golden head.
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