"Then you choosed it from itself," Bruno thoughtfully remarked. "Father, could Sylvie choose a thing from itself?"
"Yes, my own one," the old man replied to Sylvie, not noticing Bruno's embarrassing question, "it was the same Jewel——but you chose quite right." And he fastened the ribbon round her neck again.
"Sylvie will love all——all will love Sylvie," Bruno murmured, raising himself on tiptoe to kiss the 'little red star.' "And, when you look at it, it's red and fierce like the sun——and, when you look through it, it's gentle and blue like the sky!"
"God's own sky," Sylvie said, dreamily.
"God's own sky," the little fellow repeated, as they stood, lovingly clinging together, and looking out into the night. "But oh, Sylvie, what makes the sky such a darling blue?"
Sylvie's sweet lips shaped themselves to reply, but her voice sounded faint and very far away. The vision was fast slipping from my eager gaze: but It seemed to me, in that last bewildering moment, that not Sylvie but an angel was looking out through those trustful
