The lines and the haunting air of the old carol came pouring into Bella's mind. "It isn't Christmas, but all the rest fits to-night and—and every time," and there in the gathering darkness she sang softly to herself—
"Faith sees no longer the stable floor,
The pavement of sapphire is there,
The clear light of heaven streams out to the world,
And the angels of God are crowding the air,
And heaven and earth, through the Spotless Birth,
Are at peace on this night so fair."
"Faith sees no longer the stable floor,
The pavement of sapphire is there,
The clear light of heaven streams out to the world,
And the angels of God are crowding the air,
And heaven and earth, through the Spotless Birth,
Are at peace on this night so fair."
All the way home along the quiet road the lines still haunted her—
"And heaven and earth, through the Spotless Birth,
Are at peace on this night so fair."
"And heaven and earth, through the Spotless Birth,
Are at peace on this night so fair."
She was singing softly as she reached her own gate. She did not see her father standing inside and looking over it.
"Lassie, that's what I was feeling, but didn't know how to put it into words," he said, with an unusual gentleness in his tone.
"Oh, father, are you here? Isn't it damp for you to be out?" she asked anxiously, for Bella was always nervous for him.
"I couldn't go in, child, till you were home. It seemed to me you weren't happy about something."