"Stupid" sentiment?
Had he ever thought true, tender, homely sentiment "stupid"?
Yes,--perhaps he had, when in the bold carelessness of full manhood he had assumed that the race was to the swift and the battle to the strong--but now, when the shadows were falling--when, perhaps, he would never hear the Christmas bells again, or be troubled by the "silly superstitions" of loving, praying, hoping, believing humanity, he would have given much could he have gone back in fancy to every Christmas of his life and seen each one spent cheerily amid the warm associations of such "sentiments" as make friendship valuable and lasting.

He looked up half vaguely at the sky, clear blue on this still frosty morning, and was conscious of tears that crept smartingly behind his eyes and for a moment dimmed his sight.

And he murmured dreamily-- "Behold we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last--far off--at last, to all-- And every winter change to spring!" A tall, athletic figure came between him and the light, and Angus Reay's voice addressed him-- "Hullo, David! A merry Christmas to you! Do you know you are standing out in the cold?
What would Miss Mary say ?" "Miss Mary" was the compromise Angus hit upon between "Miss Deane" and "Mary,"-- considering the first term too formal, and the last too familiar.
Helmsley smiled.
"Miss Mary has gone to church,"-- he replied--"I thought you had gone too." Reay gave a slight gesture of mingled regret and annoyance.
"No--I never go to church,"-- he said--"But don't you think I despise the going.

Not I.I wish I could go to church! I'd give anything to go as I used to do with my father every Sunday." "And why can't you ?" "Because the church is not what it used to be,"-- declared Reay--"Don't get me on that argument, David, or I shall never cease talking! Now, see here!--if you stand any longer at that open door you'll get a chill! You go inside the house and imitate Charlie's example--look at him!" And he pointed to the tiny toy terrier snuggled up as usual in a ball of silky comfort on the warm hearth--"Small epicure! Come back to your chair, David, and sit by the fire--your hands are quite cold." Helmsley yielded to the persuasion, not because he felt cold, but because he was rather inclined to be alone with Reay for a little.

They entered the house and shut the door.
"Doesn't it look a different place without her!" said Angus, glancing round the trim little kitchen--"As neat as a pin, of course, but all the life gone from it." Helmsley smiled, but did not answer.