"A doll!" shrieked Dora.
"A knife!" yelled Stephen, as he seized the precious treasure, felt its keen edge and examined the handle.
Then a paper fluttered out of the bundle and fell on the floor at Mrs. Bean's feet. As she picked it up and read the contents, a light broke over her puzzled face, and her hand trembled.
"What's the matter, Mother?" Jimmy asked, noting her agitation.
"Nothing, my boy," she replied. "Only I'm so overcome at the good Lord giving us such kind friends on this Christmas Eve. This is such a lovely letter from Miss Sinclair, and she says that all these things are from the Helping Hand Society of St. Saviour's Church. Isn't it good of them?"
A groan from the sofa startled her.
"Is your ankle worse, sir?" she enquired, going to the side of the afflicted man.
"Y-y-es," Sinclair replied; "but I feel better now. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"And look here!" Stephen cried, who had at length reached the bottom of the bundle. "Well, I declare! Two packages of Red Rose tea! Hurrah! Now we kin have some fer Christmas."
"And you, poor man," she said turning to Sinclair, "shall have a good strong cup just as soon as I can make it. It seems to me I must be dreaming," and the excited woman bustled off to the kitchen.