fresh and full and plump. Both faces had certain lines of hardness,
certain indications of stormy, troublous souls looking through the
eyes, and speaking on the lips.

"I'm going to die, Bet; Fin going back to the good God," panted Mrs.
Granger." he doctor have been, and he says mebbe it'll last till
morning, mebbe not. I'm going back to Him as knows best,--it's a rare
sight of good fortune for me, ain't it?"

"I don't believe you're going to die," said Bet. She spoke harshly,
in an effort to subdue the emotion which was making her tremble all
over. "Doctors are allays a-frightening folks. Have a cup o' tea,
mother?"

"It don't frighten me, Bet," said Mrs. Granger. "I'm going away, and
He's coming to fetch me; I ain't afeard. I never seemed more of a poor
sort of a body than I do to-night, but somehow I ain't afeard. When
He comes He'll be good--I know He'll be good to me."

"Oh, you're ready fast enough, mother," said Bet, with some bitterness.
"No one has less call to talk humble than you, mother. You was allays
all for good, as you calls it."

"I was reg'lar at church, and I did my dooty," answered Mrs. Granger.
"But somehow I feels poor and humble to-night. Mebbe I didn't go the
right way to make you think well on religion, Bet. Mebbe I didn't do
nothing right--only I tried, I tried."

There was a piteous note in the voice, and a quivering of the thin
austere lips, which came to Bet as a revelation. Her own trembling