Mr. Linley felt the pulse and shook his head.  The fever was high and there was no strength to battle with it.

And then he looked into Susy’s great, wistful eyes, and was touched to the heart.  The child had learned the sweetest and noblest lesson of all.  She had gone out into the highway and hedges, she had gathered in the lame and the halt and the blind.

“You see I’ve grown fond of her, a’ready,” explained Susy.  “I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late.  I will send in a doctor, and some delicacies from the house.”

“If you please, I’d rather not have you do the last.  You see Granny spoke a little cross at first, and now she’s trying to make it all up to her.  She’ll feel better if she does everything; and she’s a good heart, has Granny.”

What a point of conscience here amid poverty and ignorance!

“The lessons have not all been on my side,” said Mr. Linley to his wife afterward.  “The poor little factory girl has taught me something that I shall never forget.  To think of her going without her coat that she might provide a dinner for some homeless, hungry children.  I wish you would go and see them, my dear.”  Mrs. Linley went with her husband.

[Illustration:  "O Mother!  Mother!"]

Susy stared as if she had seen an angel.  Granny dropped a curtesy, and dusted a chair with her apron.

“Little Jennie,” Susy whispered, “poor little girl, can’t you open your eyes a minute?”

She opened them—­wider—­wider.  Then she rose a little and stared around—­stretched out her trembling hands toward Mrs. Linley, and cried:—­

“O mother! mother!  Susy said I should find you.  I tried to be good, not to lie or steal, though I was nearly starved.  And Susy’s been so—­kind.  She brought me in—­to the Christmas—­dinner—­”

Mrs. Linley caught the swaying form in her arms.  The last words quivered slowly on her lips and her eyes drooped.  She remembered just where she had seen the child, and a pang of bitter self-upbraiding pierced her heart.  She kissed the still lips for her mother’s sake, and laid her gently down.  Had Susy and Granny entertained an angel unawares, while her blind eyes had not been able to discern “the least of these?”

“Oh!” said Susy sobbing, “I’m so glad you came.  I s’pose she thought it was her own mother, for she has talked about her all the time.  Poor little girl!  I shall always be thankful that I brought her in out of the cold, though I never guessed she was going to die.”

“The fame of your Christmas feast has gone up among the angels, Susy,” said Mr. Linley reverently.  “And now, my dear girl, have little Jennie buried where you like, and bring the bill to me.  I want a little share in your good work.”

Mr. and Mrs. Linley walked home quietly.  Had her beautiful Christmas tree borne any such fruit as this?

“For I was an hungered and ye fed me.”