Pop Wallis, through an unusual combination of circumstances, had
been for some hours without liquor and was comparatively sober. He stood
for a moment staring amazedly at the group around his fireside. Perhaps
because he had been so long without his usual stimulant his mind was
weakened and things appeared as a strange vision to him. At any rate, he
stood and stared, and as he looked from one to another of the men, at
the beautiful stranger, and across to the strangely unfamiliar face of
his wife in her new bonnet, his eyes took on a frightened look. He
slowly took his hand from the door-frame and passed it over his eyes,
then looked again, from one to another, and back to his glorified wife.

Margaret had half risen at her end of the table, and Gardley stood
beside her as if to reassure her; but Pop Wallis was not looking at any
of them any more. His eyes were on his wife. He passed his hand once
more over his eyes and took one step gropingly into the room, a hand
reached out in front of him, as if he were not sure but he might run
into something on the way, the other hand on his forehead, a dazed look
in his face.

"Why, Mom--that ain't really--_you_, now, _is_ it?" he said, in a
gentle, insinuating voice like one long unaccustomed making a hasty
prayer.

The tone made a swift change in the old woman. She gripped her bony
hands tight and a look of beatific joy came into her wrinkled face.

"Yes, it's really _me_, Pop!" she said, with a kind of triumphant ring
to her voice.

"But--but--you're right _here_, ain't you? You ain't _dead_,
an'--an'--gone to--gl-oo-ry, be you? You're right _here_?"

"Yes, I'm right _here_, Pop. I ain't dead! Pop--glory's _come to me_!"

"Glory?" repeated the man, dazedly. "Glory?" And he gazed around the
room and took in the new curtains, the pictures on the wall, the
cushions and chairs, and the bright, shining windows. "You don't mean
it's _heav'n_, do you, Mom? 'Cause I better go back--_I_ don't belong in
heav'n. Why, Mom, it can't be glory, 'cause it's the same old
bunk-house outside, anyhow."

"Yes, it's the same old bunk-house, and it ain't heaven, but it's
_goin_' to be. The glory's come all right. You sit down, Pop; we're
goin' to have church, and this is my new bonnet. _She_ brang it. This is
the new school-teacher, Miss Earle, and she's goin' to have church. She
done it _all_! You sit down and listen."

Pop Wallis took a few hesitating steps into the room and dropped into