encouraging word, it would be "Every cloud has a silver lining."

Christmas eve was a scene of stir and excitement. Though work was done
in a systematic manner, the unusual tasks of labor and love were
hurrying upon each other with increasing rapidity. The servant's hall
was not to be passed over at this joyous time. Everyone, both family and
servants, shared in the festivity. How the graceful form of Mary Douglas
flew from room to room, arranging some pleasing surprise, planning some
little act of courtesy or civility. The housekeeper's room, stealthily
invaded by bribing another domestic, becomes the hiding place of a
handsome lace cap. Each maid finds under her pillow a sovereign and some
little trinket, as a ribbon, scarf or work box.

These were happy moments in the life of Mary Douglas. In the performance
of such acts of goodness she was truly happy. This lovely girl was
possessed of the united virtues of Sir Howard and Lady Douglas. Free from
the remotest clouds of sorrow or care, Mary Douglas was indeed to be
envied. Her father's smile was of more value to his gifted daughters than
the most flattering attention from the many admirers who vainly tried to
receive the slightest sign of encouragement.

That Lady Rosamond often longed for the happy and contented hours of her
companion--for a like participation of uninterrupted and halcyon days,
should form no ground for surprise. "How I should like to tell Mary my
trouble and receive her sweet counsel," murmured the sad girl. "I should
feel the burden lighter to bear, but it would seem almost a sacrilege to
invade upon such quiet harmony, for, with her sweet sympathizing nature,
I know that Mary would grieve over my sorrow. Dear girl, your Christmas
shall not be clouded by me," soliloquized Lady Rosamond, "I love you too
deeply to wish you care like mine. Ah, no, Mary darling, may you never