moment, then said cheerfully,--

"Won't you be glad to have a lot of boys and girls to play with, instead
of staying here with a lonely old man?"

Still the child said nothing; but suddenly down went the curly head upon
his arm, and the tears came thick and fast.

Sir Edward raised the little face to his,--

"We must not have tears on Christmas Day," he said. "What is the matter,
don't you want to go?"

"I suppose I must," sobbed Milly. "Ford told nurse the day I came that
you hated children. I've always been thinking of it, but you have been
so kind to me that I thought perhaps he had made a little mistake. Miss
Kent didn't want me, and now you don't want me, and perhaps my aunt
won't want me when I get there. I wish God wanted me, but I'm afraid He
doesn't. Nurse says she thinks He wants me to work for Him when I grow
up. I think--I think I'm rather like the little kitten yesterday, that
nobody was sorry for when she died. You said there were plenty more
kittens, didn't you?"

"I don't think there are plenty of small Millicents in this world," and
Sir Edward's voice was husky. "Now listen, little woman. I have been
thinking over the matter, and have decided this afternoon to keep you
with me. I find I do want you after all, and cannot afford to lose you.
Supposing we dry these tears, and talk about something else."

And as the little arms were thrown round his neck, and a face full of