The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1894-12-22


and Mrs. Daintree was librarian.
They all boarded at the same place,
and the two latter sat at the head OF
their table. Hope and Marah came
next. These were the "four ladies,
SO designated by Mrs. Gallagher, the
cook. The others, down to little
Sarah Simpkins at the foot OF the
board. were simply "girls."
It was Celestia who had suggested
that the four should vacate their
small stuffy rooms, and take the attic
together. The attic At first the
suggestion was met with scorn, but
the room looked inviting. Itcovered
the whole of the house, and when fu-
migated, whitewashed, and divided by
portieres into three compartments, 1t
looked so fresh and clean, that when
the report spread that the four ladies
were going up there, every body in
the building wanted to go too. There
was only one door, which was GER
tainly drawback, or would have
been had the occupants not been
congenial. There were four windows;
two very large ones in front, in Celes-
tia's room, and two in the back,
shared by the sisters. Mrs. Daintree
had no window, but possessed COM
pensations in the door, an open fire.
place and gas lamp.
Oh! the airiness of that attic. Far
above the dirt, and dust, and din of
the street, how close it seemed to the
feecy clouds, how near to the sky
and stars! How restful the evening
when dusty and tired, the weary girls
had climbed the stairs and settled
down for quiet chat together.
Mrs. Daintree, past three-score years
and ten, was one of the cheeriest old
ladies imaginable. She and Hope,
who was sixteen, seemed near of an
age.
The summer had passed and this
was Christmas eve-a green Christ
mas. Rain poured in torrents. Hope
and Marah were detained later than
usual at their work. When they
reached their boarding house, Celes-
tia was nowhere to be seen. Mrs.
Daintree had gone to spend the festive
season with friends. Even the cheer
full flicker of her fire was invisible
tonight. Never had Christmas
seemed so dull. Separated though
they were from friends and relatives,
the sisters had always celebrated the
day by letters and little tokens of
love. This year they had sent many
such, but everybody appeared to have
forgotten them.
"Not even letter." groaned poor
Marah, as she searched the receptacle
for mail.
"And no delivery tomorrow"
sighed Hope. But" SIZE continued,
faithful to her name, "they may all
come together the following day"
No they won't" said Marah bit
terly. Nothing but disappointment
ever comes to this family"
"You are tired, and dispirited,
DEAR" said sunny Hope. "Let's go
to bed. After nights rest you will
feel better"
After shedding some tears the sis
tiers soon slept the sleep of the weary
They did not even hear Celestia come
in. For her they had prepared
present, but disappointment had put
it aside until morning.
Christmas dawned bright and clear.
The rain was transmitted into dia-
monds, and hung in glittering drops
from the caves over the high windows.
Merrily rang the bells from convent
and from church, as Marah and Hope
opened their eyes, Simultaneously
rose and looked again, for, 10! mir
acle had been wrought in the night.
Piled high beside the bed were boxes,
books, packages and letters; and
there at the parting Of the portiere
stood Celestia in her nightgown,
beaming upon them.
"Ol you good angel" cried Hope
and Marah darting at her, and cover
her with kisses. at was you did all
this, and we thought you didn't care.
o.! you darling"
Then they looked at their treasures.
First the letters were read and re-
read. Then the packages were ex-
amined. There was box from Aunt
Jemima, full of good things to eat,
such as you do not get in boarding
houses. There was a silver napkin
ring each, from Celestia. There were
beautiful books; just what they
wanted. Even the boarding house
mistress had remembered them. 'Be-
cause they are strangers in a strange