"
Joyce was half singing her words now, as she rocked the cat back and
forth in her arms. "And then the scissors would bring Jules a
magnificent big tree, and he'd never be afraid of his uncle any more.
Oh, they'd all have such a happy time on Christmas Day, in the morning!"
Joyce had fully expected to be homesick all during the holidays; but now
she was so absorbed in other people's troubles, and her day-dreams to
make everybody happy, that she forgot all about herself. She fairly
bubbled over with the peace and good-will of the approaching
Christmas-tide, and rocked the cat back and forth in the pear-tree to
the tune of a happy old-time carol.
A star or two twinkled out through the gloaming, and, looking up beyond
them through the infinite stretches of space, Joyce thought of a verse
that she and Jack had once learned together, one rainy Sunday at her
Grandmother Ware's, sitting on a little stool at the old lady's feet:
"Behold thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and
outstretched arm, and _there is nothing too hard for thee._" Her heart
gave a bound at the thought. Why should she be sitting there longing for
fairy tales to be true, when the great Hand that had set the stars to
swinging could bring anything to pass; could even open that long-closed
gate and bring the brother and sister together again, and send happiness
to little Jules?
Joyce lifted her eyes again and looked up, out past the stars.
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