The snowstorm was over, and the sun was shining in a sky of cloudless blue. It was an ideal Christmas Day.
Many were the questions Lilian had to answer, concerning her adventure of the previous night, as she stood in the churchyard after the glad service was over. And she grew quite embarrassed, as she listened to the complimentary speeches made to her upon her bravery and presence of mind.
"I only wish the thieves could be found," said Bob Wills, who had run ahead of his aunt and uncle and caught up his young friends on their way home. "I hear two tramping sort of men were seen loafing about the village yesterday; you may depend those were the ones you overheard talking."
"Very likely," Lilian agreed, "for I'm sure they were strangers."
"I ought to have gone across the Green with you last night," Bob confessed.
"No, Bob, it was I who ought to have gone with her," Rupert was constrained to admit; "but I only thought of myself and missing the magic-lantern. And poor Lilian was done out of everything—even the Christmas tree—"
"Oh, never mind that!" Lilian interposed hastily. "You and Nellie have told me all about it, and how pleased the children were with their presents, so I shall be able to write and tell Miss Long all she wants to know just as though I had been there."
"And I shall write and tell her how brave you were last night," Nellie declared, for she felt exceedingly proud of her sister. "If I had been in your place, Lilian, I should have been frightened to death. And I wouldn't have gone through the pathfields by myself after dark in a snowstorm for anything, and I don't believe the boys would have either!"
"You see there is one advantage in being blind," said Lilian brightly, "one can get about by night as well as by day."
"You'll come up to our place this afternoon, won't you?" Rupert inquired of Bob ere they parted outside Westhill. "I heard father asking you. Be sure you come."