"I was coming to you," she said; "how go things at home?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
The little one coughs and can barely breathe, and the older sister says the pains in her legs are so bad with this wind.
"Won't you come home with me?"
"Oh no," said the boy, "it is so beautiful in there, so bright. Do you hear how they laugh?"
Sorrow did not look up but went further, and did not notice that Envy was creeping behind her, with his thin lips and sharp nose and squinting eyes. He came up to the children and whispered to them—
"Yes, it is beautiful in the homes of the rich, is it not? What have you got, you poor things? Is it not Christmas too for you?"
"Hu, how cold it is!" the boy said suddenly. "Come, it is no longer pretty here."
And they ran home.
As they opened the door a haggard woman called out sharp and impatiently—