the hand of the other woman, and clutching the box yet more firmly under
her arm, she hurried away. Once, twice, she turned and shook her head at
the ragged woman who followed her. Then, with a savage gesture at the two
children, she disappeared beyond Miss Terry's straining eyes. The poor
woman and her boys followed forlornly at a distance.

"They really wanted it, that old Noah's ark!" exclaimed Miss Terry in
amazement. "I can scarcely believe it. But why did that other creature keep
the thing? I see! Only because she found they cared for it. Well, that is a
happy spirit for Christmas time, I should say! Humph! I did not expect to
find anything quite so mean as _that!_"




CHAPTER V

MIRANDA


Miss Terry returned to the fireside, fumbled in the box, and drew out a
doll. She was an ugly, old-fashioned doll, with bruised waxen face of no
particular color. Her mop of flaxen hair was straggling and uneven, much
the worse for the attention of generations of moths. She wore a faded green
silk dress in the style of Lincoln's day, and a primitive bonnet, evidently
made by childish hands. She was a strange, dead-looking figure, with pale
eyelids closed, as Miss Terry dragged her from the box. But when she was
set upright the lids snapped open and a pair of bright blue eyes looked
straight into those of Miss Terry. It was so sudden that the lady nearly
gasped.