"Carrie!" said the stranger in eager tones, advancing toward Mrs. Mulford, who seemed to have heard a voice from the far-away past. She was in her own home again, a careless child; father and mother were living, death had never crossed her threshold, and all was joy and happiness. A bewildered moment, and then a flash of recognition. "Uncle Nathan!" "Yes, dear child! Would I could have got to you sooner;" and he held the weary head close to his generous heart, and smoothed the worn brow. "I felt I was growing old, and had a hankering after a home to die in, and always the face of my little niece, Carrie, seemed to give me the heartiest welcome." "Then you didn't die," said Arthur, looking on the scene as if it were a part of a fairy story. "Of course I didn't. Came near it, a dozen times, but always escaped. Couldn't see why I was spared and better folks taken, but it's all clear now. Why, I had as hard work finding out anything about Ned Mulford, or Ned Mulford's widow, as if I'd been trying to find Captain Kidd." "It's because of our poverty," sighed the widow. "Yes, I suppose so. It's the way of the world! But who cares? We'll begin the world anew." Mrs. Mulford stared at hearing her own words repeated, and Bridget, who kept an ear on the proceedings, stood for a moment in open-mouthed amazement, much as if she feared that there was to be another great convulsion of nature. "Yes," continued Uncle Nathan, "yes, that's what brought me back. Money don't make a home, I know that well enough, for I've seen it tried. Arthur, what are your plans?" "I was going into Mr. Chase's grocery the first of January." "Do you want to? Any taste for hams, herrings, tape, and shoe-strings?" "No, sir," replied Arthur, laughing at the combination, "but I'd like to help mother. I promised father to see after her." "You've done your duty. But my opinion is you'd rather go to college than into a grocery." "Oh, sir!" and the flush on the boy's face was not to be misunderstood. "College it is, then. Carrie, you are to be my housekeeper; these are my little girls;" clasping the children in a hearty embrace, "and see if we don't turn out a happier family than any Barnum ever exhibited." The Christmas dinner was a marvel of cookery, and Uncle Nathan enlivened the meal with accounts of his adventures. "And this was the Christmas I had dreaded!" said Mrs. Mulford, as she retired to her room. The children had reluctantly gone to bed, fearing that this good "Santa Claus," as they persisted in calling Uncle Nathan, would disappear in the night, and leave them as suddenly as he came. Arthur dreamed of his books and college, and woke up half a dozen times in the night to assure himself that the great man sleeping so soundly beside him was not simply the magician of the "Arabian Nights."