She went on to the next song without daring to turn around;—­this was the little old nursery favorite,

  “Oh, happy night, that brings the morn
     To shine above the child new-born! 
     Oh, happy star! whose radiance sweet
     Guided the wise men’s eager feet....”

and after that came “Noel,”—­surely never sung before, Susan thought, as they sang it then!  The piano stood away from the wall, and Susan could look across it to the big, homelike, comfortable room, sweet with violets now, lighted by lamp and firelight, the table cleared of its usual books and games, and heaped high with packages.  Josephine’s picture watched them from the mantel; “wherever she is,” thought Susan, “she knows that we are here together singing!”

  “Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices! 
      Oh, night divine, oh night, when Christ was born!”

The glorious triumphant melody rose like a great rising tide of faith and of communion; Susan forgot where she was, forgot that there are pain and loss in the world, and, finishing, turned about on the piano bench with glowing cheeks and shining eyes.

“Gee, Moth’, I never heard you coming down!” said Jim delightedly, as the last notes died away and the gap, his seniors had all been dreading, was bridged.

“I heard you,” Betts said, radiant and clinging to her mother.

Mrs. Carroll was very white, and they could see her tremble.

“Surely, you’re going to open your presents to-night, Nance?”

“Not if you’d rather we shouldn’t, Mother!”

“Oh, but I want you to!” Her voice had the dull, heavy quality of a voice used in sleep, and her eyes clung to Anna’s almost with terror.  No one dared speak of the miracle; Susan spoke with nervousness, but Anna bustled about cheerfully, getting her established in her big chair by the fire.  Billy and Phil returned from the cellar, gasping and bent under armfuls of logs.  The fire flamed up, and Jimmy, with a bashful and deprecatory “Gosh!” attacked the string of the uppermost bundle.

So many packages, so beautifully tied!  Such varied and wonderful gifts?  Susan’s big box from Virginia City was not for her alone, and from the other packages at least a dozen came to her.  Betts, a wonderful embroidered kimono slipped on over her house dress, looked like a lovely, fantastic picture; and Susan must button her big, woolly field-coat up to her chin and down to her knees.  “For once you thought of a dandy present, Billy!” said she.  This must be shown to Mother; that must be shown to Mother; Mother must try on her black silk, fringed, embroidered Chinese shawl.

“Jimmy, dear, no more candy to-night!” said Mother, in just the old voice, and Susan’s heart had barely time for a leap of joy when she added: 

“Oh, Anna, dear, that is lovely.  You must tell Dr. and Mrs. Jordan that is exactly what you’ve been wanting!”