that she could not trust her feet. What wonder at
that? If she really knew the truth, what wonder at anything? She gave
the support of her arm to the door, across the passage. Then the need
for it seemed to cease, and the Granny, becoming her strong old self
again, said with her own voice:--"That will do, dear child! Leave me to
go on." She seemed to mean:--"Go on alone." That was what Ruth took her
speech for. She herself held back; so none saw the first meeting between
the twins.

Presently, as she stood there in suspense, she heard the words:--"Who is
it outside, Ruth?" in Mrs. Prichard's voice, weak but controlled. Then
the reply, through a breath that caught:--"Ruth is outside." Then the
weaker voice, questioning:--"Then who?... then who?..." But no answer
was given.

For, to Ruth's great wonderment, Granny Marrable came back in extreme
trepidation, crying out through sobs:--"Oh, how can this be Maisie? Oh,
how can this be Maisie?" To which Ruth's reply was:--"Oh, mother dear,
who can she be if she is not my mother?" And though the wording was at
fault, it is hard to see how she could have framed her question
otherwise.

But old Phoebe had cried out loud enough to be heard by Keziah, speaking
with John Costrell out in front, and it was quite audible in the room
she had just left. That was easy to understand. But it was less so that
old Maisie should have risen unassisted from the bed where she had lain
since morning, and followed her.

"Oh, Phoebe, Phoebe darling, do not say that! Do not look at me to deny
me, dearest. I know that this is you, and that we are here, together.
Wait--wait and _it will come_!" This was what Keziah remembered hearing
as she came back into the house. She crossed the kitchen, and saw,
beyond Widow Thrale in the passage, that the two old sisters were in
each other's arms.

Old Phoebe, strong in self-command and moral fortitude, and at the same
time unable to stand against the overwhelming evidence of an almost
incredible fact, had nevertheless been unprepared, by any distinct image
of what the beautiful young creature of fifty years ago had become, to
accept the reality that encountered her when at last she met it face to
face.

Old Maisie's position was different. She had already fought and won her
battle against the changes Time had brought about, and her mind no
longer recoiled from the ruinous discolorations of decay. She had been
helped in this battle by a strong ally, the lo