"you will be welcome."

I was sure that, whatever ill chances had befallen the mother of this
child, she was one of those who are found in the sight of the Perfect
Justice sworn for by the angels. I knew also that Glenn would see that
she should be cordially sheltered and brought back to health; for men
like Glenn, I said to myself, are kinder in their thought of suffering
women than women themselves-are kinder, juster, and less prone to think
evil.

She raised her head, and answered: "I think that I could walk; but this,
you see, is the only hospitality that I can accept, save, it may be, some
bread and a little meat, that the child suffer no more, until I reach
Winnanbar, which, I fear, is still far away."

"This," I replied, "is Winnanbar; the homestead is over there, beyond the
hill."

"This is--Winnanbar?" she whisperingly said, "this--is--Winnanbar!
I did not think--I was-so near." . . . A thankful look came to her
face. She rose, and took the child again and pressed it to her breast,
and her eyes brooded upon it. "Now she is beautiful," I thought, and
waited for her to speak.

"Sir--" she said at last, and paused. In the silence a footstep sounded
without, and then a form appeared in the doorway. It was Glenn.

"I followed you," he said to me; "and--!" He saw the woman, and a low
cry broke from her.