e mirror caught her eye, and she saw herself, a strange self
in a soft white collar, and went up to get a nearer view, laying a
toil-worn finger on the lace and looking half embarrassed at sight of
her own face.

"It's a real purty collar," she said, softly, with a choke in her voice.
"It's too purty fer me. I told him so, but he said as how you wanted I
should dress up every night fer supper in it. It's 'most as strange as
havin' a mounting come an' live with you, to wear a collar like
that--me!"

Margaret's eyes were suddenly bright with tears. Who would have
suspected Mom Wallis of having poetry in her nature? Then, as if her
thoughts anticipated the question in Margaret's mind, Mom Wallis went
on:

"He brang me your little book," she said. "I ain't goin' to say thank
yeh, it ain't a big-'nuf word. An' he read me the poetry words it says.
I got it wropped in a hankercher on the top o' the beam over my bed. I'm
goin' to have it buried with me when I die. Oh, I _read_ it. I couldn't
make much out of it, but I read the words thorough. An' then _he_ read
'em--the Kid did. He reads just beautiful. He's got education, he has.
He read it, and he talked a lot about it. Was this what you mean? Was it
that we ain't really growin' old at all, we're jest goin' on, _gettin_'
there, if we go right? Did you mean you think Him as planned it all
wanted some old woman right thar in the bunk-house, an' it's _me_? Did
you mean there was agoin' to be a chanct fer me to be young an'
beautiful somewheres in creation yit, 'fore I git through?"

The old woman had turned around from looking into the mirror and was
facing her hostess. Her eyes were very bright; her cheeks had taken on
an excited flush, and her knotted hands were clutching the bureau. She
looked into Margaret's eyes earnestly, as though her very life depended
upon the answer; and Margaret, with a great leap of her heart, smiled
and answered:

"Yes, Mrs. Wallis, yes, that is just what I meant. Listen, these are
God's own words about it: 'For I reckon that the sufferings of this
present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be
revealed in us.'"

A kind of glory shone in the withered old face now. "Did you say them
was God's words?" she asked in an awed voice.

"Yes," said Margaret; "they are in the Bible."

"But you couldn't be sure it meant _me_?" she asked, eagerly. "They
wouldn't go to put _me_ in the Bible, o' course."

"Oh yes, you could be