"But you frightened me though," said Aggie, drawing a long breath.
"But you are not frightened now, darling?"
"Why of course not Miss Carrie."
"But do you know I think I would rather hear that pretty little story about the 'Christ-child,' that you told us a few evenings ago, or one of those little poems of which you know so many."
"I do not think I can remember any to-night," said Miss Carrie, "but perhaps Amy can."
"Please try dear Miss Amy," cried Aggie running to her, "Mr. Graham, and Miss Carrie have both told us a story, and now if you will repeat some pretty poetry it will be so nice."
Miss Amy laughed pleasantly, and lifted Aggie on her lap. "My pet," she said, "yesterday I heard you ask your mother what she thought the prettiest thing in the world."
"Oh, yes," cried Aggie, "and she couldn't decide. What do you think the prettiest Miss Amy? But then perhaps you are like mamma, you think there are, so many beautiful things in the world that you can't choose between them."
"Yes," said Miss Amy sweetly though gravely, I have decided. "Now listen to me a few minutes and you shall know what is to me