“There, there, my child.  You are a baby—­a mere baby!” said the Iron King, as he patted her on the head and left her.

This interview occurred a few days before Christmas.

It was now Christmas morning, nearly four years after the departure of Rule Rothsay.  It was a fine clear, cold day.  Bright with color was the village of North End, where all the houses were decorated with holly, and the people, in their Sunday clothes, were out in the streets on their way to the church, which had been beautifully decorated for the occasion.

The Rockharrt family—­with the exception of old Aaron Rockharrt, who did not choose to turn out that day, and Miss Rose Flowers, who stayed home to keep him company and to wait on him—­came early in their capacious and comfortable family carriage.  They had a large, square, handsomely upholstered pew in the right-hand upper corner of the church.

When they were all quietly settled in their seats and the voluntary was going on, the elders of the party bowed their heads to offer up their preliminary prayers.  But Cora, girl-like, looked about her, letting her glances wander over the well-filled pews, and then up toward the galleries.  A moment later she suddenly gave a little start and half-suppressed exclamation of delight.

Mrs. Rockharrt, who had finished her prayer, looked around in surprise at the girl, who had committed this unusual indecorum.

“Oh, grandma, it is Rule!  Rule, up there in the boys’ gallery—­look!” Cora whispered, in eager delight.

The old lady raised her eyes and recognized Regulas Rothsay—­but so well grown, so well dressed, and well looking as to be hardly recognizable, except from his strong, characteristic head and face.  He wore a neatly fitting suit of dark-blue cloth; neat woolen gloves covered his large hands; his hair was trimmed and as nicely dressed as such rough, tawny locks could be.

At length the beautiful service was finished, and the congregation filed out of the church into the yard, where all immediately began shaking hands with each other.

Presently Cora saw the youth come out of the church, look earnestly about him until he descried her party, and then walk directly toward her.

“Oh, Rule, I am so glad to see you!  When did you get here?  Why didn’t you come straight to Rockhold?  Why didn’t you write and tell me you were coming?” Cora eagerly demanded, as she met him, and hurrying question upon question before giving him time to answer the first one.

The youth raised his cap and bowed to the elder members of the party before answering the girl.  Then he said: 

“I did not know that I could come until an hour before I started.  I came by the midnight express, and reached here just in time for church.  I have not seen, or I should say, I have not spoken to, any one here yet except yourself.

“Last evening, being Friday evening, we were at work very late on our Saturday’s supplement, and a Christmas story in it.  Very often we have to work on Christmas night, if the next day is a week day; and every Sunday night—­that is, from twelve midnight, when the Sabbath ends—­we have to work to get out Monday morning’s paper.”