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Brown, Abbie Farwell, 1871-1927

"The Christmas Angel"

She saw lying beside the clock the pink Angel which had fallen from
the box as she brought it in,--the box now empty by the fire.
"Law, Miss," she said, "have you burned them all up but him? I'm glad you
saved him, he's so pretty."
"Norah," said Miss Terry with an effort, "is that clock right?"
"Yes'm," said Norah. "I set it this morning. I came back as soon as I
could, Miss," she added apologetically.
"It isn't that," answered Miss Terry, drawing her hand across her forehead
dazedly. "I did not mind your absence. But I thought it must be later."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't stay out any later when you was alone here, Miss," said
Norah penitently. "I felt ashamed after I had gone. I ought not to have
left you so,--on Christmas Eve. But oh, Miss! The singing was so beautiful,
and the houses looked so grand with the candles in the windows. It is like
a holy night indeed!"
Miss Terry stooped and picked up something from the floor. It was the bit
of candle-end which had escaped the holocaust.
"Are the candles still lighted, Norah?" she asked, eyeing the bit of wax in
her hand.
"Yes'm, some of them," answered the maid. "It is getting late, and a good
many have burned out. But some houses are still as bright as ever.


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