Tom had gone up to fetch his books. As he stood in the cold, reading over these words, he felt perplexed. It seemed such a great responsibility. Then he thought of his text, and knelt down for an instant. "Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." For a minute he looked soberly at the letter, then with brightening cheeks, and ran downstairs. How thankful he was that the others were out! "Aunt Ruth," he said, hesitating a little, "I have a letter here which I was to give you or not, as I considered best. It was a great honour to be charged with so much, but I think if I were in your place, I should like to see it." He held out his hand, and it trembled. Aunt Ruth looked up earnestly. "Who is it from, Tom?" "Some one you knew before your grand-papa died—some one who went abroad because—" Tom choked. "You'll see what he says; it can't do any harm, and it may be a Christmas present for you, auntie!" He caught up his books, and was gone before she could speak. Presently—it seemed a good while to Tom in the cold—Aunt Ruth came to his door. "Tom, dear," she said, with averted face, "how can I tell you how glad I am that you told me! God has been very good to me, and, indeed, His assurance which I trusted has come abundantly true, 'He careth for you.'" CHAPTER XXV. HOW TO FIND. "WELL, I can't find it!" said Nancy in rather an exasperated tone. "I've been looking and peeping about for this twenty minutes, and I can't find it!" "What is it?" asked Tom lazily, from his book and his corner of the sofa. "Why, a shilling! I was putting some change into my purse, and it rolled from under my very fingers!" "Perhaps you've made a mistake?" "No; but I'm sure I haven't. I have only half-a-crown in the world, and that was in three sixpences and a shilling; and the shilling is gone! Besides, I heard it drop and roll away." "We'll look after tea," yawned Tom. But Nancy was not satisfied with that, and went on groping about in all the likely corners, almost ready to cry at her brother's lack of sympathy, and at her own want of success. Mary was preparing the tea busily, and did not seem to be taking much notice; but presently she said in her gentle voice, "Perhaps you have not light enough?" and while Nancy looked up with relief at someone being interested in her trouble, Mary quietly slipped out of the room. Poor little Nancy sat down on the hearth-rug, and almost gave up her shilling; she had looked everywhere, she was certain. Then a light came in at the door, and there was Mary with a small lamp in her hand. "Try this," she said, holding it out so that its light sent a beam into the dark recesses round the fireplace. Nancy started up with fresh energy, and then there was a sudden exclamation. "Why, Mary—!" "Have you found it?" asked Mary joyfully. "Yes; but I'd looked there heaps of times! It was just by the scuttle—" "The light shone on it, I expect," said Mary, "and then you saw it!"