As Uncle Jack went down the little
porch he looked back into the window for a last glimpse of the
family, as the children gathered about their mother, showing
their beautiful presents again and again, and then upward to a
window in the great house yonder. "A little child shall lead
them," he thought; "well, if--if anything ever happens to Carol,
I will take the Ruggleses under my wing."
"Softly, Uncle Jack," whispered the boys, as he walked into the
library a little while later; "We are listening to the music in
the church. They sang 'Carol, brothers, carol,' a while ago, and
now we think the organist is beginning to play 'My ain countree'
for Carol."
"I hope she hears it," said Mrs. Bird; "but they are very late
to-night, and I dare not speak to her lest she should be asleep.
It is after ten o'clock."
The boy-soprano, clad in white surplice, stood in the organ loft.
The lamps shone full upon his crown of fair hair, and his pale
face, with its serious blue eyes, looked paler than usual.
Perhaps it was something in the tender thrill of the voice, or in
the sweet words, but there were tears in many eyes, both in the
church and in the great house next door.
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