Christmas Angel — 05 - Chapters 13 - 15
THE CHRISTMAS CANDLE
Suddenly there was a sound,--a dull reverberating sound.
It seemed to Miss Terry to come from neither north, south, east, nor west, but from a different world.
Ah!
She recognized it now.
It was somebody knocking on the library door.
Miss Terry gave a long sigh and drew herself up in her chair.
"It must be Norah just come back," she said to herself.
"I had forgotten Norah completely.
It must be shockingly late.
Come in," she called, as she glanced at the clock.
She rubbed her eyes and looked again.
A few minutes after nine!
She had thought it must be midnight!
Norah entered to find her mistress staring at the mantel where the clock stood.
She saw lying beside the clock the pink Angel which had fallen from the box as she brought it in,--the box now empty by the fire.
"Law, Miss," she said, "have you burned them all up but him?
I'm glad you saved him, he's so pretty."
"Norah," said Miss Terry with an effort, "is that clock right?"
"Yes'm," said Norah.
"I set it this morning.
I came back as soon as I could, Miss," she added apologetically.
"It isn't that," answered Miss Terry, drawing her hand across her forehead dazedly.
"I did not mind your absence.
But I thought it must be later."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't stay out any later when you was alone here, Miss," said Norah penitently.
"I felt ashamed after I had gone.
I ought not to have left you so,--on Christmas Eve.
But oh, Miss!
The singing was so beautiful, and the houses looked so grand with the candles in the windows.
It is like a holy night indeed!"
Miss Terry stooped and picked up something from the floor.
It was the bit of candle-end which had escaped the holocaust.
"Are the candles still lighted, Norah?"
she asked, eyeing the bit of wax in her hand.
"Yes'm, some of them," answered the maid.
"It is getting late, and a good many have burned out.
But some houses are still as bright as ever."
"Perhaps it is not too late, then," murmured Miss Terry, as if yielding a disputed point.
"Let us hurry, Norah."
She rose, and going to the mantel-shelf gently took up the figure of the Angel, while Norah looked on in amazement.
"Norah," said Miss Terry, with an eagerness which made her voice tremble, "I want you to hang the Christmas Angel in the window there.
I too have a fancy to burn a candle to-night.
If it is not too late I'd like to have a little share in the Christmas spirit."
Norah's eyes lighted.
"Oh, yes'm," she said.
"I'll hang it right away.
And I'll find an empty spool to hold the candle."
She bustled briskly about, and presently in the window appeared a little device unlike any other in the block.
Against the darkness within, the figure of the Angel with arms outstretched towards the street shone in a soft light from the flame of a single tiny candle such as blossom on Christmas trees.
It caught the attention of many home-goers, who said, smiling, "How simple!
How pretty!
How quaint!
It is a type of the Christmas spirit which is abroad to-night.
You can feel it everywhere, blessing the city."
For some minutes before the candle was lighted, a man muffled in a heavy overcoat had been standing in a doorway opposite Miss Terry's house.
He was tall and grizzled and his face was sad.
He stared up at the gloomy windows, the only oblongs of blackness in the illuminated block, and he shivered, shrugging his shoulders.
"The same as ever!"
he said to himself.
"I might have known she would never change.
Any one else, on Christmas Eve, after the letter I wrote her, would have softened a little.
But I might have known.
She is hard as nails!
Of course, it was my fault in the first place to leave her as I did.
But when I acknowledged it, and when I wrote that letter on Christmas Eve, I thought Angelina might feel differently."
He looked at his watch.
"Nearly half-past nine," he muttered.
"I may as well go home.
She said she wanted to be let alone; that Christmas meant nothing to her.
I don't dare to call,--on my only sister!
I suppose she is there all alone, and here I am all alone, too.
What a pity!
If I saw the least sign--" Just then there was the spark of a match against the darkness framed in by the window opposite.
A hand and arm shone in the flicker of light across the upper sash.
A tiny spark, tremulous at first, like a bird alighting on a frail branch, paused, steadied, and became fixed.
In the light of a small taper the man caught a glimpse of a pale, long face in a frame of silver hair.
It faded into the background.
But above the candle he now saw, with arms outstretched as it seemed toward himself, a pink little angel with gauzy wings.
The man's heart gave a leap.
Sudden memories thronged his brain, making him almost dizzy.
At last they formulated into one smothered cry.
"The Christmas Angel!
It is the very same pink Angel that Angelina and I used to hang on our Christmas tree!"
In three great leaps, like a schoolboy, he crossed the street and ran up the steps of Number 87. The Christmas Angel seemed to smile with ineffable sweetness as he gave the bell a vigorous pull.
CHAPTER XIV TOM
Miss Terry was leaning on the mantel-shelf looking into the fire, when the bell pealed furiously.
She started and turned pale.
"Lord 'a' mercy!"
ejaculated Norah, who was still admiring the effect of the window-decoration.
"What's that?
Who can be calling here to-night, making such a noise?"
"Go to the door, Norah," said Miss Terry with a strange note in her voice.
"It may be some one to see me.
It is not too late."
"Yes'm," said Norah, obedient but bewildered.
Presently the library door opened and a figure strode in; a tall, broad-shouldered man in a fur overcoat.
For a moment he stood just inside the door, hesitating.
Miss Terry took two steps forward from the fire-place.
"Tom!"
she said faintly.
"You came,--after all!"
"After all, Angelina," he said.
"Yes, because I saw _that_," he waved his hand toward the window.
"That gave me courage to come in.
It is our Christmas Angel.
I remember all about it.
Does it mean anything, Angelina?"
Miss Terry held out a moment longer.
Then she faltered forward.
"O Tom!"
she sobbed, as she felt his brotherly, strong arms about her.
"O Tom!
And so he has brought you back to me, and me to you!"
"He?
Angelina girl, who?"
He smoothed her silver hair with rough, kind fingers.
"Why, the Christmas Angel; our Guardian Angel, Tom.
All these years I kept him in the play box, and I was going to burn him up.
But I couldn't do it, Tom.
How wonderful it is!"
They sat down before the fire and she began to tell him the whole story.
But she interrupted herself to send for Norah, who came to her, mystified and half scandalized by the greeting which she had seen those two oldsters exchange.
"This is my brother Tom, Norah, who has come back," she said.
"I believe it is not too late to make some preparation for Christmas Day.
The stores will still be open.
Run out and order things for a grand occasion, Norah.
And--O Norah!"
a sudden remembrance came to her.
"If you have time, will you please get some toys and pretty things such as a little girl would like; a little girl of about ten, with my complexion,--I mean, with yellow hair and blue eyes.
We may have a little guest to-morrow."
"Yes'm," said Norah, moving like one in a dream.
"A guest?"
exclaimed Tom.
And Miss Terry told him about Mary.
"I love little girls," said Tom, "especially little girls with yellow hair and blue eyes, such as you used to have, Angelina."
"You will like Mary, then," said Miss Terry, with a pretty pink flush of pleasure in her cheeks.
"I shall like her, _if_ she comes," amended Tom, who, man-like, received with reservations the account of a vision vouchsafed not unto him.
"She will come," said Miss Terry with her old positiveness, glancing towards the window where the Christmas Angel hung.
Then arose the sound of singing outside the house.
The passing choristers had spied the quaint window, now the only one in the street which remained lighted:-- "When Christ was born of Mary free, In Bethlehem, in that fair citye, Angels sang with mirth and glee, _In Excelsis Gloria!
_" CHAPTER XV CHRISTMAS DAY
And Mary came.
The brother and sister were at breakfast,--the happiest which either of them had known for years,--when there came a timid pull at the front-door bell.
Miss Angelina laid down her knife and fork and looked across the table at Tom.
"She has come.
Mary has come," she said.
"Norah, if it is a little girl with a package under her arm, bring her in here."
"Yes'm!"
gasped Norah, who believed she was living in a dream where everything was topsy-turvy.
When had a child entered Miss Terry's dining-room!
Norah disappeared and presently returned ushering in a little girl of ten, with blue eyes and yellow hair.
Under her arm she carried a white-paper package, very badly wrapped.
Miss Terry exchanged with her brother a glance which said, "I told you so!"
The child seemed bashful and afraid to speak; no wonder!
Tom's kind heart yearned to her.
"Good morning!
Wish you a merry Christmas, Mary!"
he said smiling.
The child gave a start.
"Why, how did you know my name?"
she cried.
Tom looked confused.
How indeed did he know?
But Miss Angelina, with a readiness that surprised herself, came to his rescue.
"We were talking of a little girl named Mary," she said.
"And you look just like her.
What did you come for, dear?"
The little girl hung her head and turned crimson.
"I--I came to see Angelina Terry," she whispered.
"I--I've got a doll that belongs to her."
There was a pause, then Miss Terry said, "Well, go on."
"I--I found her on the steps of this house last night, and I ought to have brought her right here then.
But I didn't. I took her home.
I hope Angelina was not very unhappy last night."
Miss Terry smiled upon Tom, who gave a kind, low laugh.
"No," said Miss Terry.
"Angelina did not worry about her lost doll.
She was thinking about something else,--the nicest Christmas present that ever anybody had.
But you were a good girl to bring back the doll."
"No, I'm not a good girl," said Mary, and her voice trembled.
"I was a wicked girl.
I meant to keep Miranda for myself, because I thought she would be a lovely big doll.
And when I found she was old and homely, somehow I still wanted to keep her.
But it was stealing, and I couldn't. Please, will you give her to Angelina, and tell her I am so sorry?"
She took Miranda out of the wrapping and held her toward Miss Terry without looking at the doll.
It was as if she were afraid of being tempted once more.
[Illustration: MARY RETURNS THE DOLL] Miss Terry did not take the doll.
"I am Angelina," she said.
"The doll was mine."
"You!
Angelina!"
the child's face was full of bewilderment.
Mechanically she drew Miranda to her and clasped her close.
"Yes, I am Angelina, and that was my doll Miranda," said Miss Terry gently.
"Thank you for returning her.
But Mary,--your name is Mary?"
The child nodded.
--"Suppose I wanted you to keep her for me, what would you say?"
Mary's eyes still dwelt upon Miss Terry with a puzzled look.
This gray-haired Angelina was so different from the one she had pictured.
She did not answer the question.
Miss Terry drew the child to a chair beside her.
"Tell me all about yourself, Mary," she said.
After some coaxing and prompting from what they already guessed, Mary told the story of her sad little life.
She was an orphan recently left to the care of her uncle and aunt, who had received her grudgingly.
They were her sole relatives; and the shame of their degraded lives was plain through the outlines of the vague picture which Mary sketched of them.
"You do not love them, Mary?"
asked Miss Terry kindly.
"No," answered the child.
"They always speak crossly to me.
When they have been drinking they beat me."
Tom rose from the table with a muttered word and began to pace the floor.
His blue eyes were full of tears.
"Mary," said Miss Terry, "will the people at home be worried if you do not come back to dinner?"
Mary shook her head wonderingly.
"No," she said.
"They will not care.
I am often away on holidays.
I go to the Museums."
"Then I want you to stay with us to-day," said Miss Terry.
"We are going to have a Christmas celebration, and we need you for a guest.
Will you stay, you and Miranda?"
Mary looked down at the doll in her arms, and up at the two kind faces bent toward her.
"Yes," she said impulsively, "I will stay.
How good you are!
I
don't want to go home."
"Don't go home!"
burst out Tom.
"Stay with us always and be our little girl."
Mary looked from one to the other, half frightened at the new idea.
Miss Terry bent and pecked at her cheek, with a thrill at the new sensation.
"Yes, we mean it," she said, and her voice was almost sweet.
"We believe that the Christmas Angel has brought you to us, Mary.
You have the Christmas name.
But you seem to us like the little girl we both knew best, little Angelina with blue eyes and yellow hair, who was Miranda's mother.
Will you stay with us, Mary Angelina?
Would you like to stay?"
Mary looked up with a wistful smile.
"You are so good!"
she said again.
"I wish I could stay.
But Uncle and Aunt are so--I am afraid of what they might do to us all.
If they thought you wanted me, they would not let me go."
"I will fix Uncle and Aunt," said Tom, going for his coat.
"Leave them to me.
I know an argument that settles uncles and aunts of that sort.
You need not go back to their house, I promise you, Mary, my dear."
Mary gave a great sigh of relief.
"Oh, I am so glad!"
she said.
"It was such a wicked house.
And here it is so good!"
"Good!"
Miss Terry echoed the word with a sigh.
"Come with me, Mary," she said.
She led her little guest through the hall to the library, where a great fire was blazing, with sundry mysterious packages in white paper piled on the table beside it.
But Miss Terry did not stop at the fire-place.
She drew Mary to the window which looked out on the sidewalk.
Above the lower sash Mary saw the remains of a burned-out Christmas candle; and over it hung a pink papier-mâché Angel stretching out open arms towards her.
"This is the Christmas Angel, Mary," said Miss Terry.
"He is as old as Miranda--" "He is as old as Christmas," interrupted Tom, looking in from the hall.
"When we were children, Tom and I, we hung him on our Christmas tree," went on Miss Terry.
"We think he brought you to us.
We believe he has changed the world for us,--has brought us peace, good-will, and happiness.
He is going to be the guardian angel of our house.
You must love him, Mary."
"How beautiful he is!"
said Mary reverently.
"His face shines like the Baby's that I saw once in the Church.
Oh, Miss Angelina!
He is like the Christ-Child himself!"
"Call me Aunt Angelina," said Miss Terry with a quick breath.
"Aunt Angelina," cried the child, throwing her arms about Miss Terry's neck.
Tom came and put his great furry coat-sleeves about them both.
"And Uncle Tom," he said.
"Dear Uncle Tom!"
whispered the child shyly.
There were tears in the eyes of all three.
"Now we shall live happy ever after," said Tom.
And the Christmas Angel beamed upon them.
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Section 1.
