in health her face must have been persistent in its charm. Even now it
was something noble.

With that patronage of compassion which we use towards those who are
unfortunate and humble, I was about to say to her, "My poor woman!" but
there was something in her manner so above her rude surroundings that I
was impelled to this instead: "Madam, you are ill. Can I be of service
to you?"

Then I doffed my hat. I had not done so before, and I blushed now as I
did it, for I saw that she had compelled me. She sank back upon the
couch again as though the effort to achieve my courtesy had unnerved her,
and she murmured simply and painfully: "Thank you very much: I have
travelled far."

"May I ask how far?"

"From Mount o' Eden, two hundred miles and more, I think"; and her eyes
sought the child's face, while her cheek grew paler. She had lighted a
tiny fire on the hearthstone and had put the kettle on the wood. Her
eyes were upon it now with the covetousness of thirst and hunger. I
kneeled, and put in the tin of water left behind by some other pilgrim,
a handful of tea from the same source--the outcast and suffering giving
to their kind. I poured out for her soon a little of the tea. Then I
asked for her burden. She gave it to my arms--a wan, wise-faced child.

"Madam," I said, "I am only a visitor here, but, if you feel able, and
will come with me to the homestead, you shall, I know, find welcome and
kindness, or, if you will wait, there are horses, and you shall be
brought--yes, indeed," I added, as she shook her head in sad negation,