“No Christmas—no blessing—no Johnnie!” moaned the guardian child.
Kitty felt it rise from her shoulder—a sudden fear woke her up. She looked round; he was fluttering away, his eyes fixed on the star that was disappearing behind the brow of the hill. The guardian child had lost all his rosiness; the little pink wings were pale; the rainbow tunic faded; he looked as Johnnie looked when Kitty thought he was dying.
“Day-dream lessons are falsehoods,” shouted Kitty. In a moment she was wide awake; she had bounded over the stumpy legs that stretched across the path.
As she did so a faint peal of Christmas sounded in her ear. The guardian child fluttered back to her shoulder; it perched there light as a bird, and at every step Kitty took it grew rosier and brighter again. The naughty sprite growled.
The path was very steep, but Kitty ran panting along. “I nearly put off too long,” she said ruefully when once more she stood under the star, and she relaxed her speed to take breath. “That fat man’s talk sounded so pleasant.”
“That is the worst of temptations; they have always so much to say for themselves,” said the guardian child. He spoke in a troubled voice, and Kitty noticed that he was standing up very erect and looking ahead anxiously.
The sprite had apparently got over his ill-temper, and he was now pleasantly sniffing the air.
“I wonder if there is some danger coming!” said Kitty. “I am warned, anyhow. I won’t be tempted again.”
Presently she perceived a little brook babbling across her path; but she was running at such speed she could not stop herself, and at one bound she sprang across the stream.
