"Was he pleased?" "Oh, yes; he walked away with it, and began playing at once; and every time anyone came near, he hugged it tight, and said, 'This is for my own, own self now.'" "Poor little man," said Mrs. Arundel. "Mamma always is full of pity," said Ada; "but I do not see why Alfy is poor at all." Mrs. Arundel did not answer, but stroked Netta's head thoughtfully. "Dear mamma," said she, looking up and appreciating the soft touch; then turning to Ada, "I know why mamma thinks Alfy 'poor;' and so he is, because he has no mother." "But Christina makes him as happy as can be in her Orphanage," said Ada. "Yes," said Mrs. Arundel; "and it is infinitely better than his running wild at the farm; and yet, Ada—" Ada's eyes turned round the room, and a thought flashed across her; but she put it away hastily and almost angrily. "Another time," she said to herself; "not now on any account." Just at this moment, the door was opened to admit the entrance of an invalid boy, who lay at full length on a light frame, so arranged that it could be carried up and down stairs easily, and placed upon an ordinary sofa without disturbing him. Mrs. Arundel sometimes wondered what they would do when the now slender form should be too heavy to be carried, but she checked the thought; for, after all, did it not belong to the cares of to-morrow? And are we not told over and over that these are not to harass us? Carrying one end of the couch was Simmons, the housemaid, and the other, little Tom's brother Arthur, a well-grown boy of fifteen. Mrs. Arundel rose, and made way for them to place him on the sofa, and then, when he was comfortable, the little girls greeted him, while Nellie sat down by him and took his hand. "I have missed you so, Nellie," he said, looking up in her face. "I have brought something for you off the Christmas tree," answered Nellie. "Have you really? How kind of you." "It is from Christina. It was her tree, you know." "What is it?" asked Tom, looking curiously at Nellie's hand, which was disappearing into her pocket. "It is a very wonderful knife," answered she, producing it; and while his thin little fingers explored its mysteries, all the others drew near to watch, Arthur holding the lamp above Netta's head that they might all see as well as possible. There was a large blade and a small blade; there was a little saw, a gimlet, a bradawl, a tiny screwdriver, and a little pair of pincers. Tom's eyes sparkled, and even Arthur would not have disdained the pretty present. "Shall I ever be able to use any of them?" asked Tom. "Yes, we think you will. Christina has sent you some light wood, and directions how to make various little things; and she thought, Tom, you might perhaps like to do something for the missionaries." "I should very much, if I could." "We will see then some morning when you are extra well."