A long silence followed, and all eyes turned upward to where the Christmas Angel hung from the ceiling by a broad ribbon tied around its waist. Its arms were outspread above the tree, and its dimpled hand seemed to be showering blessings on all. As no one answered, the Angel went on gravely:
"We are celebrating the birth of Christ. I am the image of the Angel who brought the news, and I come each year to each tree to remind all people that 'Unto you a Child is born,' and you all pain me by quarrelling over prices at such a time."
A sort of shamed silence settled on all the toys. The gold ball glanced at his lady love, but she was looking gravely down into the green below. Then Santa Claus gave himself a little shake.
"You have made us all feel solemn, when we want to be gay," he said. "Can't some one start a song?"
"I will," said the Angel, and he straightway began chanting, "'Twas the Night before Christmas," and they all joined in; and when it was finished all solemnity had disappeared, and wild gayety and good temper prevailed.
The evening was a great success. There were a great many people, and much light and laughter. The tree was praised, and our friends came in for their share of the admiration. When the guests had gone, Mrs. Miller called the maids to her.
"Undress the tree in the morning," she said. "Save the larger balls, the dolls, and the tinsel animals, and throw all the smaller things away. Good-night. Come, Estelle."
Consternation fell on the ornaments. The larger ones gave sighs of relief, and the smaller ones shudders of horror. The little balls glanced at one another and laughed nervously.
"She cannot mean us," they said, "we are so beautiful and expensive." And Pinky thought again of the baby.