There in Oakfield she saw, for the first time, the Christmas-tree in all its glory, and “Rena” was called so many times, that at last when she came back with a huge doll which Aunt Hannah had worked at in secret for weeks, she hid her face in her hands and sobbed hysterically, so great was her happiness. That was to her in truth “Jesus’ birthday party,” and when that night she knelt alone in her room, she thanked Him in her quaint way for all the joy and brightness crowning her young life, and then, with a sigh as she remembered poor Ruthy, asked that if there were Christmas trees in Heaven, Ruthy might see one and get everything she wanted, just as she had done. Here Rena paused with a thought of the book she had coveted so much, and which Ruth had promised to buy as soon as she saved money enough. Rena had never seen the book, for Grandma Harris, as the child called her, knew nothing of it, and the nearest Rena had been to possessing it was on that night when Ruth had hidden it away so carefully against the morning which dawned upon them amid smoke and flame. The book had burned to ashes; Rena was there at Grandpa Harris’s; and Ruth, as she believed, was in Heaven with the mother whom Rena could scarcely remember. Fright and sickness had driven some things from her mind, but Mr. and Mrs. Harris knew that she was picked up on the street on the night of a fire and that her name was Rena Cutler. They knew, too, about poor Ruth, and Grandma Harris had wept more than once over the two little girls living alone in the cold, forlorn chamber of the dreary tenement house. So much Rena could tell, but when it came to her mother she remembered nothing except that she was good, and sick, and died; and so grandma never suspected the truth, or dreamed why the orphan seemed so near to her and her husband, both of whom would have been very lonely now without the little girl to whom they had given their name, so that she was known to everybody as Rena Harris. CHAPTER V. DAISY. Swiftly the years came and went till Rena had been for more than four years in Oakland, and was a fair, sweet-faced girl of thirteen, when one day, toward the last of August there came to the farm-house from the hotel on the hill across the river, a young man whom Rena had seen in church and who she had heard was stopping in town with his wife. Occasionally he had driven by the farm-house, and Rena had caught sight of a pale, beautiful face which had made her heart throb quickly with a feeling she could not define. It was a young girlish face, and Rena was surprised when she heard that the lady was the young man’s wife, and very sorry and grieved when she further heard that she was crazy.