e shape of
her head," Sabina said, in a phrase she had learned of the
cabinet-maker.

"You shall have anything you can do; just as Dot does," said Miss
Euphrasia. "And Amy will like it all the better for your doing. You
can put the love into the work, as much as we shall into the pay."

Was there ever anybody who handled the bare facts of life so
graciously as this Miss Euphrasia? She did it by taking right hold
of them, by their honest handles,--as they were meant to be taken
hold of.

"You like your home? You haven't grown tired of being a village
girl?" she said, as she and Sylvie sat down on a great flat
projecting rock in the shaded walk beside the railroad track. They
had just missed one car; there would not be another for twenty
minutes.

"O, yes. No; I haven't got tired; but I don't feel as if I had quite
_been it_, yet. I don't think I am exactly that, or anything, now.
That is the worst of it. People don't understand. They won't take us
in,--all of them. It's just as hard to get into a village, if you
weren't born in it, as it is to get into upper-ten-dom. Mrs.
Knoxwell called, and looked round all the time with her nose up in a
sort of a way,--well, it _was_ just like a dog sniffing round for
something. And she went off and told about mother's poor, dear, old,
black silk dress, that I made into a cool skirt and jacket for her.
'Some folks must be always set up in silk, she _sposed_.' Everybody
isn't like the Ingrahams."

"No garment of _this_ life fits exactly. There was only one
seamless robe. But we mustn't take thought for raiment, you see. The
body is more. And at last,--somehow, sometime,--we shall be all
clothed perfectly--with his righteousness."

This was too swift and light in its spiritual touching and linking
for Sylvie to follow. She had to ask, as the disciples did, for a
meaning.

"It isn't clothes that I am thinking of, or that trouble me; or any
outside. And I know it isn't actual clothes you mean. Please tell me
plainer, Miss Euphrasia."

"I mean that I think He meant by 'raiment,' not _clothes_ so much as
_life_; what we put on or have put on to us; what each soul wears
and moves in, to feel itself by and to be manifest; history,
circumstance. 'Raiment,'--'garment,'--the words always stand for
this, beyond their temporary and technical sense. 'He laid aside his
_garment_,'--He gave up his own life that He might have been
living,--to come and wash our feet!"

"And the people ca