"Well, it ought to by rights, but there's some who would feel mighty strange there, and 'tis only for the children of the Kingdom—them that have stepped through the Door?"
"What door?" asked Harebell interested at once.
"The Lord Jesus Christ is the Door," said the little dressmaker gravely. "Don't you know He says: 'I am the Door, by Me if any man enter in, he shall be saved'?"
"I don't see how Jesus Christ can be a door," said Harebell slowly and reflectively.
Then she looked up at Miss Triggs, smiling.
"I think I know how it's done. He holds out his arms and we run underneath them."
"You run into them, dearie, that's it. 'He shall gather the lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom.'"
Harebell was silent for a moment.
"I like that idea about the door," she said. "I always love strange doors, and I always try to get through them to the other side. I wonder if I'm through the Door, Miss Triggs?"
"You can go through to-night," said Miss Triggs.