Saint LucySaturday was a busy and a happy time to Jack, for in the morningMr. Acton came to see him, having heard the story overnight, andpromised to keep Bob's secret while giving Jack an acquittal aspublic as the reprimand had been. Then he asked for the reportwhich Jack had bravely received the day before and put awaywithout showing to anybody.

　　"There is one mistake here which we must rectify," said Mr.

　　Acton, as he crossed out the low figures under the word"Behavior," and put the much-desired 100 there.

　　"But I did break the rule, sir," said Jack, though his face glowedwith pleasure, for Mamma was looking on.

　　"I overlook that as I should your breaking into my house if you sawit was on fire. You ran to save a friend, and I wish I could tellthose fellows why you were there. It would do them good. I am notgoing to praise you, John, but I did believe you in spite ofappearances, and I am glad to have for a pupil a boy who loves hisneighbor better than himself."Then, having shaken hands heartily, Mr. Acton went away, andJack flew off to have rejoicings with Jill, who sat up on her sofa,without knowing it, so eager was she to hear all about the call.

　　In the afternoon Jack drove his mother to the Captain's, confidingto her on the way what a hard time he had when he went before,and how nothing but the thought of cheering Bob kept him upwhen he slipped and hurt his knee, and his boot sprung a leak, andthe wind came up very cold, and the hill seemed an endlessmountain of mud and snow.

　　Mrs. Minot had such a gentle way of putting things that she wouldhave won over a much harder man than the strict old Captain, whoheard the story with interest, and was much pleased with the boys'

　　efforts to keep Bob straight. That young person dodged away intothe barn with Jack, and only appeared at the last minute to shove abag of chestnuts into the chaise. But he got a few kind words thatdid him good, from Mrs. Minot and the Captain, and from that dayfelt himself under bonds to behave well if he would keep theirconfidence.

　　"I shall give Jill the nuts; and I wish I had something she wantedvery, very much, for I do think she ought to be rewarded forgetting me out of the mess," said Jack, as they'd rove happilyhome again.

　　"I hope to have something in a day or two that will delight her verymuch. I will say no more now, but keep my little secret and let itbe a surprise to all by and by," answered his mother, looking as ifshe had not much doubt about the matter.

　　"That will be jolly. You are welcome to your secret, Mamma. I'vehad enough of them for one while"; and Jack shrugged his broadshoulders as if a burden had been taken off.

　　In the evening Ed came, and Jack was quite satisfied when he sawhow pleased his friend was at what he had done.

　　"I never meant you should take so much trouble, only be kind toBob," said Ed, who did not know how strong his influence was,nor what a sweet example of quiet well-doing his own life was toall his mates.

　　"I wished to be really useful; not just to talk about it and donothing. That isn't your way, and I want to be like you," answeredJack, with such affectionate sincerity that Ed could not helpbelieving him, though he modestly declined the compliment bysaying, as he began to play softly, "Better than I am, I hope. I don'tamount to much.""Yes, you do! and if anyone says you don't I'll shake him. I can'ttell what it is, only you always look so happy and contented--sortof sweet and shiny," said Jack, as he stroked the smooth brownhead, rather at a loss to describe the unusually fresh and sunnyexpression of Ed's face, which was always cheerful, yet had acertain thoughtfulness that made it very attractive to both youngand old.

　　"Soap makes him shiny; I never saw such a fellow to wash andbrush," put in Frank, as he came up with one of the pieces of musiche and Ed were fond of practising together.

　　"I don't mean that!" said Jack indignantly. "I wash and brush tillyou call me a dandy, but I don't have the same look--it seems tocome from the inside, somehow, as if he was always jolly andclean and good in his mind, you know.""Born so," said Frank, rumbling away in the bass with a pair ofhands that would have been the better for some of the above-mentioned soap, for he did not love to do much in the washing andbrushing line.

　　"I suppose that's it. Well, I like it, and I shall keep on trying, forbeing loved by everyone is about the nicest thing in the world. Isn'tit, Ed?" asked Jack, with a gentle tweak of the ear as he put aquestion which he knew would get no answer, for Ed was somodest he could not see wherein he differed from other boys, norbelieve that the sunshine he saw in other faces was only thereflection from his own.

　　Sunday evening Mrs. Minot sat by the fire, planning how sheshould tell some good news she had been saving up all day. Mrs.

　　Pecq knew it, and seemed so delighted that she went about smilingas if she did not know what trouble meant, and could not doenough for the family. She was downstairs now, seeing that theclothes were properly prepared for the wash, so there was no onein the Bird Room but Mamma and the children. Frank was readingup all he could find about some Biblical hero mentioned in theday's sermon; Jill lay where she had lain for nearly four longmonths, and though her face was pale and thin with theconfinement, there was an expression on it now sweeter even thanhealth. Jack sat on the rug beside her, looking at a white carnationthrough the magnifying glass, while she was enjoying the perfumeof a red one as she talked to him.

　　"If you look at the white petals you'll see that they sparkle likemarble, and go winding a long way down to the middle of theflower where it grows sort of rosy; and in among the small, curlyleaves, like fringed curtains, you can see the little green fairysitting all alone. Your mother showed me that, and I think it is verypretty. I call it a 'fairy,' but it is really where the seeds are hiddenand the sweet smell comes from."Jill spoke softly lest she should disturb the others, and, as sheturned to push up her pillow, she saw Mrs. Minot looking at herwith a smile she did not understand.

　　"Did you speak, 'm?" she asked, smiling back again, without in theleast knowing why.

　　"No, dear. I was listening and thinking what a pretty little story onecould make out of your fairy living alone down there, and onlyknown by her perfume.""Tell it, Mamma. It is time for our story, and that would be a niceone, I guess," said Jack, who was as fond of stories as when he satin his mother's lap and chuckled over the hero of the beanstalk.

　　'We don't have fairy tales on Sunday, you know," began Jillregretfully.

　　"Call it a parable, and have a moral to it, then it will be all right,"put in Frank, as he shut his big book, having found what hewanted.

　　"I like stories about saints, and the good and wonderful things theydid," said Jill, who enjoyed the wise and interesting bits Mrs.

　　Minot often found for her in grown-up books, for Jill hadthoughtful times, and asked questions which showed that she wasgrowing fast in mind if not in body.

　　"This is a true story; but I will disguise it a little, and call it 'TheMiracle of Saint Lucy," began Mrs. Minot, seeing a way to tell hergood news and amuse the children likewise.

　　Frank retired to the easy-chair, that he might sleep if the taleshould prove too childish for him. Jill settled herself among hercushions, and Jack lay flat upon the rug, with his feet up, so that hecould admire his red slippers and rest his knee, which ached.

　　"Once upon a time there was a queen who had two princes.""Wasn't there a princess?" asked Jack, interested at once.

　　"No; and it was a great sorrow to the queen that she had no littledaughter, for the sons were growing up, and she was often verylonely.

　　"Like Snowdrop's mother," whispered Jill.

　　"Now, don't keep interrupting, children, or we never shall get on,"said Frank, more anxious to hear about the boys that were than thegirl that was not.

　　"One day, when the princes were out--ahem! we'll sayhunting--they found a little damsel lying on the snow, half deadwith cold, they thought. She was the child of a poor woman wholived in the forest--a wild little thing, always dancing and singingabout; as hard to catch as a squirrel, and so fearless she wouldclimb the highest trees, leap broad brooks, or jump off the steeprocks to show her courage. The boys carried her home to thepalace, and the queen was glad to have her. She had fallen and hurtherself, so she lay in bed week after week, with her mother to takecare of her--""That's you," whispered Jack, throwing the white carnation at Jill,and she threw back the red one, with her finger on her lips, for thetale was very interesting now.

　　"She did not suffer much after a time, but she scolded and cried,and could not be resigned, because she was a prisoner. The queentried to help her, but she could not do much; the princes were kind,but they had their books and plays, and were away a good deal.

　　Some friends she had came often to see her, but still she beat herwings against the bars, like a wild bird in a cage, and soon herspirits were all gone, and it was sad to see her.""Where was your Saint Lucy? I thought it was about her, askedJack, who did not like to have Jill's past troubles dwelt upon,since his were not.

　　"She is coming. Saints are not born--they are made after manytrials and tribulations," answered his mother, looking at the fire asif it helped her to spin her little story. "Well, the poor child used tosing sometimes to while away the long hours--sad songs mostly,and one among them which the queen taught her was 'SweetPatience, Come.'

　　"This she used to sing a great deal after a while, never dreamingthat Patience was an angel who could hear and obey. But it was so;and one night, when the girl had lulled herself to sleep with thatsong, the angel came. Nobody saw the lovely spirit with tendereyes, and a voice that was like balm. No one heard the rustle ofwings as she hovered over the little bed and touched the lips, theeyes, the hands of the sleeper, and then flew away, leaving threegifts behind. The girl did not know why, but after that night thesongs grew gayer, there seemed to be more sunshine everywhereher eyes looked, and her hands were never tired of helping othersin various pretty, useful, or pleasant ways. Slowly the wild birdceased to beat against the bars, but sat in its cage and made musicfor all in the palace, till the queen could not do without it, the poormot............