was builded upon a foundation of many generations of noble ancestors.
Without home or children of her own, the life strength of her splendid
womanhood had been given to the teaching of boys and girls. An old-maid
schoolteacher? Yes,--if you will. But, as I saw her standing there that
day,--tall and slender, dressed in a simple gown that was fitting to her
work,--there was a queenly dignity, a stately sweetness, in her bearing
that made me feel, somehow, as if I had come unexpectedly into the
presence of royalty. Not the royalty of caste and court and station with
their glittering pretenses of superiority and their superficial claims
to distinction,--I do not mean that; I mean that true royalty which
needs no caste or court or station but makes itself felt because it IS.

She did not notice me at first, for the noise of the children at play in
the yard covered the sound of my approach, and she was looking far, far
away, over the river which lay below at the foot of the hill; over the
forest-clad mountains in the glory of their brown and gold; over the
vast sweep of the tree-crowned Ozark ridges that receded wave after wave
into the blue haze until, in the vastness of the distant sky, they were
lost. And something made me know that, in the moment's respite from her
task, the woman was looking even beyond the sky itself.

Her profile, clean-chiselled, but daintily formed, was beautiful in its
gentle strength. Her hair was soft and silvery like the gray mist of the
river in the morning. Then she turned to greet me, and I saw her eyes.
Boy that I was then, and not given overmuch to serious thought, I knew
that the high, unwavering purpose, the loving sympathy, and tender
understanding that shone in the calm depth of those eyes could belong
only to one who habitually looks unafraid beyond all earthly scenes.
Only those who have learned thus to look beyond the material horizon of
our little day have that beautiful inner light which shone in the eyes