th troubled eyes from one of her guests
to the other. She did not want to prepare trouble for poor Mom Wallis
when she went back.

Mom Wallis turned startled eyes toward her. There was contempt in her
face and outraged womanhood. "Pop's gone off," she said, significantly.
"He went yist'day. But he 'ain't got no call t' mind. I ben waitin' on
Pop nigh on to twenty year, an' I guess I'm goin' to a dinner-party, now
't I'm invited. Pop 'd better _not_ mind, I guess!"

And Margaret suddenly saw how much, how very much, her invitation had
been to the starved old soul. Margaret took her guests into the stiff
little parlor and slipped out to interview her landlady. She found Mrs.
Tanner, as she had expected, a large-minded woman who was quite pleased
to have more guests to sit down to her generous dinner, particularly as
her delightful boarder had hinted of ample recompense in the way of
board money; and she fluttered about, sending Tanner after another jar
of pickles, some more apple-butter, and added another pie to the menu.

Well pleased, Margaret left Mrs. Tanner and slipped back to her guests.
She found Gardley making arrangements with Bud to run back to the church
and tell the men to leave the buckboard for them, as they would not be
home for dinner. While this was going on she took Mom Wallis up to her
room to remove her bonnet and smooth her hair.

It is doubtful whether Mom Wallis ever did see such a room in her life;
for when Margaret swung open the door the poor little woman stopped
short on the threshold, abashed, and caught her breath, looking around
with wondering eyes and putting out a trembling hand to steady herself
against the door-frame. She wasn't quite sure whether things in that
room were real, or whether she might not by chance have caught a glimpse
into heaven, so beautiful did it seem to her. It was not till her eyes,
in the roving, suddenly rested on the great mountain framed in the open
window that she felt anchored and sure that this was a tangible place.
Then she ventured to step her heavy shoe inside the door. Even then she
drew her ugly calico back apologetically, as if it were a desecration to
the lovely room.

But Margaret seized her and drew her into the room, placing her gently
in the rose-ruffled rocking-chair as if it were a throne and she a
queen, and the poor little woman sat entranced, with tears springing to
her eyes and trickling down her cheeks.

Perhaps it was an impossibility