"I did na say that exactly; but it wud na be right to make an engagement o' that sort without Uncle Malcolm an' dear mother's consent." "Have you ever written to them, dear, upon the subject?" "Oh, yes, Madeline! I ne'er hae ony secrets frae them; they want us baith to wait until Edmund sees Uncle Malcolm. I hae been here noo quite a year. I canna gae hame alone. In the spring, Mrs. Norris, Jessie, an' Edmund, are all going to Europe, an' I shall accompany them." "You have every prospect of happiness with Edmund Norris, but I don't know what Uncle Malcolm will say about parting with his darling niece." "Is it na strange, Madeline, that I could feel willing to leave dear Uncle Malcolm, the guid friend o' a lifetime, an' my precious mother, who has luved me sae fondly, to come awa' wi' a stranger, that I hae only kenned intimately for one year? and yet I am willing; I could go ony where wi' Edmund, to the north or south pole. Does it na seem amaist a shame, Madeline, to say sae?" and Annot blushed rosy red, as she hung her head down bashfully. "I know all about that, Annot--it is not strange, dear, for does not the Bible say, that a 'man shall leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife, and they twain shall be one flesh?' and it is just the same with the wife; so don't distress yourself, little dear; it is the ordering of our Father." Christmas Eve at Woodcliff--what a bright, happy time! The parlors, library, dining and sitting rooms, are all dressed with evergreens, winter flowers and vases, in which the Scotch heather lifts its pretty purple flowers among brighter blossoms; and a table with a large white cover stands in the middle of the library, which has been most carefully locked for the last week. In the back parlor stands a Christmas tree (on the top of which rests the Christmas angel), hung with numberless little gifts, and decorated with red holly berries, lady-apples, colored glass globes, and a profusion of variegated wax candles. On a small table are spread piles of fancy covered books. This has been the work of Madeline and Annot since their return from New York; interesting several families in the neighborhood, they have gathered together a large quantity of presents for the children of the Sunday-school. They are determined to have a happy Christmas at Woodcliff. Early in the evening, the rooms are lit, and the ladies dressed. Madeline, in Roland's favorite brown silk, with lace collar, and sleeves, with no ornaments save a branch of ivy leaves and scarlet berries in her hair, and a handsome carbuncle set, that her husband had presented--Annot, in a pale blue dress, with a delicate lace frill around the neck and sleeves, and a few white camelias in her golden ringlets, that hung so gracefully around her shoulders. Standing in eager expectation near the window, they listened for the approach of their guests.