face to face with all her hard, impertinent words and ways toward her
mother.

"Flo," she said, "a miracle has come to mother, or she's getting to
be an angel, or something," but "Flo" was fast asleep; then she
tossed and turned, again. Then came a tap on mother's door. Mrs.
Murray came quickly.

"Mother," said Margaret, throwing her arms about her, and hiding her
face in her mother's neck, "I have been a wicked girl. Forgive me,
dear precious mother."

Blessed words! Margaret was soon sleeping quietly, but her mother's
heart was so full, her joy so great, that she lay thinking of the
gift that He had sent her at that Christmas time.

"Peace on earth," had been literally fulfilled to her.




WHERE HE SPENT CHRISTMAS.


"Oh, mother, I will get back before it snows much, and I shall not
mind if a few flakes of snow do light on me. Please do not object to
my going, a walk is just what I'm longing for;" and Edna Winters drew
on her gloves and stepped from the door of her home, a low-roofed
farm-house on the hill, which, in its gray old age, seemed a part of
the hill itself.