will be dulled for his prey, his voice softened for the
nightcry--if he should ever, by chance, discover that the
Christmas angel is there."

"I don't think he'll be long in making the discovery." The blue
of Evadna's eyes darkened and darkened until they were almost
black. "Christmas angel,--well, I like that! Much you know about
angels."

Grant turned his head indolently and regarded her.

"If it isn't a Christmas angel--they're always very blue and very
golden, and pinky-whitey--if it isn't a Christmas angel, for the
Lord's sake what is it?" He gave his head a slight shake, as if
the problem was beyond his solving, and flicked the ashes from
his cigarette.

"Oh, I could pinch you!" She gritted her teeth to prove she meant
what she said.

"It says it could pinch me." Grant lazily addressed the trout.
"I wonder why it didn't, then, when it was being squashed?"

"I just wish to goodness I had! Only I suppose Aunt Phoebe--"

"I do believe it's got a temper. I wonder, now, if it could be a
LIVE angel?" Grant spoke to the softly swaying poplars.

"Oh, you--there now!" She made a swift little rush at him, nipped
his biceps between a very small thumb and two fingers, and stood