"Oh, you mustn't get sad," said Rose, earnestly. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't like you to be that. We want you to have a very happy Christmas. We shall break up at school about the twentieth of December, and then we shall be very busy at home, making mincemeat and puddings, and preparing our Christmas presents."
The time had arrived now when Mavis might expect her mother's first letter from Sydney. It was delivered one afternoon whilst she was at school, and given to her immediately on her return. She ran upstairs to her bedroom to enjoy it undisturbed, and her heart throbbed with happiness as she read that her mother was well, and that Miss Dawson was continuing to improve in health.
"You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers, little daughter,"
Mrs. Grey had written, "and ever in my heart. God bless and keep you,
my darling child. I enclose a money-order for a pound, for you to spend
as you like; doubtless you will find it useful at Christmas."
"Oh, how nice!" exclaimed Mavis, delighted beyond measure. "Now I shall be able to give presents to every one! A whole pound! I never had more than half a crown in my life before!"
She finished reading her mother's letter, then went back to the beginning, and read it right through to the end again before she looked into the envelope for the money-order. There it was safe enough, and a half-sheet of notepaper, on which were written a few lines in an unfamiliar handwriting—
"DEAR LITTLE MAVIS,"
"This is to wish you a very happy Christmas. I am really better, and I believe God is going to allow me to get well. Often I have been very low-spirited and sad since we left England, but when I have thought of the Good Shepherd, of whom you sang to me so sweetly, I have felt better. 'The Lord is only my support,' dear Mavis, and I am learning to trust in Him more and more. Your mother is so good to me, so patient, so kind; we have become great friends."
"I have written to my father asking him to send you a present from London for me; you may expect to get it a few days before Christmas. It will be my Christmas-box to you, and please accept it with my love. Good-bye little song-bird. Some day I hope to hear you sing again. Don't forget—"
"LAURA DAWSON."
"That's not very likely," thought the little girl, "no, indeed. What can she be going to give me for a Christmas-box?"
"Rose, is that you?" she called out, as she heard light footsteps approaching the door.
"Oh, do come in and listen to all my news!"
Then, as Rose came in, her blue eyes fall of curiosity, she continued excitedly, "I've had such a dear, dear letter from mother, and she's sent me a pound for my very own, to spend as I like. You'll help me about getting Christmas presents for every one, won't you?"