"I thought I'd like to see you," she said to Miss Triggs, "because you can tell me how Tom is!"
"So I can!" said Miss Triggs cheerfully. "I've been telling mother about him. I went to see him yesterday, and he's doing fine. His leg is healing wonderful, and he's happier like in himself. He let me read a bit to him yesterday."
"What did you read him?"
"Just a story from the old Book; the bit that tells of a poor sick wounded man, and how some one showed love to him, and nursed him, and took care of him."
"I don't remember. Do you mean out of the Bible?"
"Yes, the Good Samaritan."
"Tell me about it. I don't believe I've heard it. I don't know all the Bible, you know."
Miss Triggs stopped her sewing-machine.
"I'll baste a bit of this dress, for I can talk better when the machine is not going."
She told in simple words the story of the traveller who was robbed and nearly murdered on a lonely road, and how, though several people would not stop to help him, one good man came and bound up his wounds, and put him on his ass, and took him to the nearest inn, where he said he was to be rested and fed and taken care of, and he would pay his expenses. Harebell listened entranced. And then Miss Triggs said softly: