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But in a minut more he was all right, an' there couldn't nobody treat a feller handsomer than he did me that night an' the next mornin'; but I took notice that the fust thing he done was to heave a big blanket kind o' careless like into the chair, an' cover the things clean up; an' then in a little while he says, a-sweepin' the whole bundle up in his arms, 'I'll just clear up this little mess, an' give ye a comfortable chair to sit in; an' he carried it all blanket, book, bracelets, shawl, an' all into the next room, an' throwed 'em on the floor in a pile in one corner.
And I think, as I'm setting here, What if the latch should lift, and the gracious stranger should come in, His gown a-sweepin' behind Him and a-sweet'nin' the air, and He should look down on me with His heavenly eyes, and He should smile, and lay His hands on my head, warm? and I say to myself, 'Lord, I am not worthy, and He says, 'Miss Catharine, thou art loosed from thine infirmity! And the latch lifts, as I think, and I wait, but it's not Him."
"Bah," retorted the hag, with scorn, "as if you didn't know my gran'daughter Sal." "Sal, Mark Frettlby's child?" "Yes, an' as pretty a girl as the other, tho' she 'appened to be born on the wrong side of the 'edge. Oh, I've seen 'er a-sweepin' along in 'er silks an' satins as tho' we were dirt an' Sal 'er 'alf sister cuss 'er."
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