be a comforting thought were it not that the morning must likewise give
place in its turn to another night.

The morning which followed the night of Nancy Forest's bitter
humiliation was certainly a bright one--at least, by contrast; and,
unfortunately, much so-called happiness is only such. Were the world not
a dark and naughty one, a good deed might not shine so brightly. In the
first place, Nancy was young and healthy; so the wintry sun, though it
shone on a frozen ground, cheered her. Then Mrs. Forest was unusually
amiable at breakfast, and paid some attention to her daughter, which she
generally found herself too busy to do. Her father made much of her, as
was his habit. He had apparently heard nothing of last night's episode.

The walk across the hills to Shenton was exhilarating, and at the end of
it a pleasant surprise awaited Nancy. She found Miss Michin already at
work on a dress for Miss Sabina Hurst when she arrived. The good-natured
little woman greeted her apprentice brightly. "You are looking better,
Nancy; the walk has given you a colour." Then she reached out her hand
to a table near her, and took a little parcel from it and gave it to
Nancy.

"It is nothing," she explained, as the girl looked at it curiously.
"Open it, dear; it is a trifle for a Christmas gift. I wish it was
more."

Nancy could only say "Oh, Miss Michin--how kind!" to begin with. Then
she unwrapped the paper and saw a dainty pair of brown kid gloves with
ever so many buttons. This matter of the buttons was not unimportant in
Nancy's eyes. Had her mother given her the money, she thought, she could
never have bought gloves with more than _two_ buttons.