These tender ministrations seemed to be blessed at last; and Christie began to hope the haunting terror would pass by, as quiet gloom succeeded to wild excitement. The cheerful spirit of the season seemed to reach even that sad room; and, in preparing gifts for others, Helen seemed to find a little of that best of all gifts,—peace for herself. On New Year’s morning, Christie found her garlanding her lover’s picture with white roses and the myrtle sprays brides wear. “These were his favorite flowers, and I meant to make my wedding wreath of this sweet-scented myrtle, because he gave it to me,” she said, with a look that made Christie’s eyes grow dim. “Don’t grieve for me, dear; we shall surely meet hereafter, though so far asunder here. Nothing can part us there, I devoutly believe; for we leave our burdens all behind us when we go.” Then, in a lighter tone, she said, with her arm on Christie’s neck: “This day is to be a happy one, no matter what comes after it. I’m going to be my old self for a little while, and forget there’s such a word as sorrow. Help me to dress, so that when the boys come up they may find the sister Nell they have not seen for two long years.” “Will you wear this, my darling? Your mother sends it, and she tried to have it dainty and beautiful enough to please you. See, your own colors, though the bows are only laid on that they may be changed for others if you like.” As she spoke Christie lifted the cover of the box old Hester had just brought in, and displayed a cashmere wrapper, creamy-white, silk-lined, down-trimmed, and delicately relieved by rosy knots, like holly berries lying upon snow. Helen looked at it without a word for several minutes, then gathering up the ribbons, with a strange smile, she said: “I like it better so; but I’ll not wear it yet.” “Bless and save us, deary; it must have a bit of color somewhere, else it looks just like a shroud,” cried Hester, and then wrung her hands in dismay as Helen answered, quietly: “Ah, well, keep it for me, then. I shall be happier when I wear it so than in the gayest gown I own, for when you put it on, this poor head and heart of mine will be quiet at last.” Motioning Hester to remove the box, Christie tried to banish the cloud her unlucky words had brought to Helen’s face, by chatting cheerfully as she helped her make herself “pretty for the boys.” All that day she was unusually calm and sweet, and seemed to yield herself wholly to the happy influences of the hour, gave and received her gifts so cheerfully that her brothers watched her with delight; and unconscious Bella said, as she hung about her sister, with loving admiration in her eyes: “I always thought you would get well, and now I’m sure of it, for you look as you used before I went away to school, and seem just like our own dear Nell.” “I’m glad of that; I wanted you to feel so, my Bella. I’ll accept your happy prophecy, and hope I may get well soon, very soon.”