the contrast. But now they shivered and clung together, and tears were in Thekla's eyes as she nestled her head upon her brother's shoulder. The kitchen did not wear its usual cheery look. And no wonder! There was sorrow in the cottage; for dear old Grandfather, who had loved them both so fondly, and been so loved in return, was gone away for ever!
[Illustration: "So the Cat told her story. 'And for a wish,' she said, 'if your Saintship would only permit me to slip in under your furs, and go along,'—'Why, jump in at once,' said St. Nicholas."]
Only a week before he had died, quietly, painlessly, with a smile on his lips, and blessing them at the last. The far-away neighbors had assembled; and with pitying looks and kind words had taken the aged form, and laid it to rest beside other graves where slept the friends of his youth. But still, in spite of the lonely house and the vacant chair, Thekla could not feel that Grandfather was far away; and every hour she silently did this thing or that because it would once have pleased him to have them done, and the thought that he still knew and was pleased comforted her. And perhaps Thekla was right in her innocent faith, for the friends we can no longer see may be nearer to us than we think.
