Kitty rubbed her eyes.

Where was she?

She was just at home. She was in the old familiar wood, the entrance into which she could see from Johnnie’s window. No, there could be no mistake; there was the pool, its silky mantle of duckweed now glistening with ice. There, yes, there was the gate shaded by the gnarled elm, its branches like a candelabrum of snow.

It is the gate of the wood. Kitty flies along the path till she has reached it. She stands and looks. The dear old home picture is there before her. She sees the old village street, the sweet-stuff shop is just round the corner. There is the square tower of the church, covered with ivy, and there is her home. Over its red-gabled 251roof the star is shining in a sky, yellow as a bed of cowslips. There is Johnnie’s window; the blue curtains are drawn across it. No one is stirring. There is no one in the garden; the house door is closed; the blinds are all down. Kitty looks fondly at the dear tranquil scene. It is like the loveliest dream. She feasts her eyes a moment upon it, then comes in her heart the question: “Am I in time? What secret does that blue-curtained window hide? Is Johnnie better or is he—”

Kitty tries to push open the gate. It is locked. She pulls at the latch: she cannot lift it. She tries to climb over the gate: it seems to grow higher and higher. She cannot reach the top. Then she hammers with her little closed fists at the lock, pushing against it with all the strength of her body.

“Open, open!” she cries.

Will not some one come to open to her?

“Mother, mother!” again cries Kitty with all her might. Will no one open?

Yes, some one is coming. Is it her mother 252coming toward her across the meadow? It is a pale lady robed in white; and as her long fair mantle trails on the ground a flash of rainbow light glows a moment and then fades from the snow.

It is Love. Her face is bright and tender. 253Her gentle fingers are on the latch. The Christmas bells are ringing louder and louder.

A great joy seizes Kitty. She is in time! She is in time!

“Have you resisted all the temptations?” asks Love in her gentle searching voice. “Did you never once lose sight of the star? Did you never hurt your guardian child, or play with your naughty sprite?”

“If you say that you did everything that you should not have done, you will not see Johnnie, or hear anything about him. You will have to go back to Punishment Land,” mutters the sprite.

A cold fear seizes Kitty.

“Tell the truth!” whispers her guardian child.

“I must see Johnnie! Oh! I must see Johnnie! Open the gate!” cries Kitty.

“Did you resist the temptations?” asks Love again, her fingers remaining motionless on the latch.

“Do not answer—smile! That will seem good,” whispers the sprite.

254The idea strikes Kitty as a happy one. A smile is not telling a falsehood. She makes an effort as she broadens her lips into what looks like a grin; she thinks Love’s fingers are beginning to press the latch.

“The smile means a falsehood. Tell the truth!” whispers the guardian child.

“You have not answered!” again says Love’s voice.

“Open the gate,” entreats Kitty in anguish. “Why are you called Love when you can stand there and not open the gate for me? I want to see Johnnie. I want to know if he is alive. Oh! it is Christmas morning. Open the gate, open the gate!”

Kitty has pushed her hands through the bars as she implores. She has caught hold of Love’s fingers, and is trying to force her to push up the latch. But still the strong hands remain motionless.

“Answer!” repeats the gentle, relentless voice.

“Say, how could I have come so far to the end of the journey you set me if I had not obeyed?” muttered the sprite.

255Kitty draws a long breath. That seems a right thing to say. It is not false, for she is here at the journey’s end.

She begins, “How could I ha—” when she hears the guardian angel’s whisper:

“Evasion is falsehood. Tell the truth.” Then Kitty falls on her knees.

“Oh, why are you called Love,” she repeats, “when you are so severe? Why will you keep pressing me with questions? It is Christmas morning! Let me see Johnnie! Let me see Johnnie!”

But Love answers only: “The day is dawning. You must answer.”

“Answer truly!” whispers the guardian child. “Never mind what happens. Answer truly.”

Kitty puts her hands over her eyes, not to see that dear home-picture fade away, that curtained window vanish from her sight without knowing the secret that it hides concerning Johnnie.

“I loitered with every temptation,” she says very low but very clearly; “but my guardian 256child helped me to escape, till at last I struck it and drove it away. Then I lost sight of the star, and I ............