The Christmas Angel - Abbie Farwell Brown - Bog

"[...]threw into relief the pretty curtains and wreaths of green, and gave glimpses of cosy interiors and flitting happy figures. "What a waste of candles!" scolded Miss Terry. "Folks are growing terribly extravagant." The street was white with snow which had fallen a few hours earlier, piled in drifts along the curb of the little-traveled terrace. But the sidewalks were neatly shoveled and swept clean, as became the eminently respectable part of the city where Miss Terry lived. A long flight of steps, with iron railing at the side, led down from the front door, upon which a silver plate had for generations in decorous flourishes announced the[...]."