Then the lady read the name written with the linen thread.

The lady said: ``I worked this name with my own hands.''

She drew Bessie Bell closer to her, and she said: ``Sister Helen
Vincula, can you doubt?''

Bessie Bell stood contentedly where the lady held her, and she
looked first at the night-gown and then at the lady, then at Sister
Helen Vincula. She did not know or care what it was all about--she
scarcely wondered.

``Sister Helen Vincula,'' said the lady, ``I know past all doubting
that I worked this name. You believe that. Much more past all
doubting do you not know--You must know--''

``Ah,'' said Sister Helen Vincula, ``I hope with you.'' She reached
for the little night-gown, and she smoothed it in her fingers.
``Ah,'' she said, ``the child has grown since she has been with us,
so much, but the little gown--it looks--really smaller to me--

But the lady was not listening to Sister Helen Vincula. She had her
arms about Bessie Bell's shoulders and was looking into her face.

``I am glad I brought the little gown,'' Sister Helen Vincula was
saying; ``the child was so ill, so fearfully thin, I feared--it was
only a fancy--I feared--''

``No, no, no,'' cried the lady, drawing Bessie Bell closer.