Her mistress looked up from the fire, where the bit of writing was writhing
painfully, and caught the expression of Norah's face.

"What have you there?" she asked, frowning, as she took the object into her
own hands. "The Christmas Angel!" she exclaimed under her breath. "I had
quite forgotten it." Then as if it burned her fingers she thrust the little
image back into the box and turned to Norah brusquely. "There, that's all.
You can go now, Norah," she said.

"Yes'm," answered the maid. She hesitated. "If you please'm, it's Christmas
Eve."

"Well, I believe so," snapped Miss Terry, who seemed to be in a
particularly bad humor this evening. "What do you want?"

Norah flushed; but she was hardened to her mistress's manner. "Only to ask
if I may go out for a little while to see the decorations and hear the
singing."

"Decorations? Singing? Fiddlestick!" retorted Miss Terry, poker in hand.
"What decorations? What singing?"

"Why, all the windows along the street are full of candles," answered
Norah; "rows of candles in every house, to light the Christ Child on his
way when he comes through the city to-night."

"Fiddlestick!" again snarled her mistress.

"And choir-boys are going about the streets, they say, singing carols in