Even then, I doubt if he would have taken this step, and brought her back home to live, if your stories of your mother and the children had not brought his own childhood back to him.

He said that he used to sit there hour after hour, and hear you talk of your life at home, until some of its warmth and love crept into his own frozen old heart, and thawed out its selfishness and pride." Joyce lifted her radiant face, and looked towards the half opened window, as she caught the sound of chimes.

Across the Loire came the deep-toned voice of a cathedral bell, ringing for vespers.
"Listen!" she cried.

"Peace on earth,--good-will--oh, Cousin Kate! It really does seem to say it! My Christmas has begun the day before.".