She saw above the stable a single star, which, palpitating with prophecy, shook its long rays out into the form of a cross, then drew them in until they circled into a blazing crown.

Far above the star the air was populous with lambent forms and resonant with shouting voices, and she heard the words: "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" The chimes melted into her reverie; the kindly sun encouraged it; the voices of happy children fed it, and she was moved to tears.
What could she do now but think over her past life--a life that had given her no children--a life that had been filled neither by peace nor good-will?
She had married an old man for his money; had worried him out of his life, and he had gone and left her childless.

She would not charge herself with the crime of hastening to the grave her father and mother, but she knew she had not been a comfort to them.

Her willfulness; her love of money and of power; her pride of person and accomplishments; her desire for admiration; her violent passions, had made her a torment to others and to herself.

She knew that no one loved her for anything good that she possessed, and knew that her own heart was barren of love for others.