Tea over, Mrs. Metherell offered up a short prayer of thanksgiving to God, during which some of the children bowed their heads reverently, whilst the others appeared astonished, never having been taught that all good things come from our Heavenly Father. The kind hostess looked around on the young faces about her table, and in a few earnest words reminded them Whose birthday eve it was, and for Whose sake they were making glad.
Afterwards, the whole party arose, and was ushered by Clara into the sitting-room. Exclamations of amazement and admiration broke from the children as they saw the Christmas tree. The Chinese lanterns had been carefully lighted by Jim Blewett, who stood in the background, watching the eager faces and listening to the delighted remarks:
"A Christmas tree!" cried one. "Oh, how lovely!"
"I never saw a Christmas tree before!" from another.
"Nor I!"
"Nor I!"
"Doesn't it do one's heart good to see their pleasure?" Mrs. Metherell whispered to Jim.
He nodded silently, his observant eyes wandering from one child's face to another, till they rested on Maggie Blundell's animated countenance, with recognition.
"There is one I know," he said, indicating the little girl. "How strange she should be here to-night!"
"Do you mean Maggie Blundell, sir?"