companion--_no, not one_. She stood beside me, speechless and
trembling. Finally I said:

"Speak to them, dear."

"I can't," she whispered, and the tears were in her eyes.

"Girls, I've brought some one with me today whom you all know and know
well, but I see you do not recognize her." (A long silence.)

"Who is she?" some one asked. (Another long silence.)

"Show them who you are, Callie."

"Callie? Callie ----? Surely not, Mother Roberts. She was," etc., etc.

But she was showing them; choking down her sobs of joy, or rather,
trying to, as she rolled up her sleeves to convince them. Even so, they
found it very difficult to believe, very, very difficult.

I gladly retired to a remote part of the dormitory, a grateful observer
temporarily forgotten, whilst Callie was being questioned and
overhauled by about seventy delighted women and girls. They went into
raptures of joy, they shouted, they wept, they hugged and kissed her,
until she was obliged to say, "Sit down. I want to talk to you. Do,
please."

Intense silence reigned whilst she related the wonderful story of her
conversion and sanctification. There was not a dry eye present. Then
she gave an invitation. Without one exception all responded and then