But Noll, with hands clasped over knee, was looking straight into the firelight, and did not appear offended; and pretty soon he said, slowly and softly, Hagar stopping her clatter to listen,—
"Before mamma died—Did you know mamma, Hagar?"
"Not muchly, chile," said Hagar; "yer Uncle Dick's wife was my lady."
"Well, before mamma died," continued Noll, "we used to take long walks upon the shore by the town. A great shining shore it was, I remember, and yellow like gold sometimes when the sun shone upon it."
"Like de shore ob de new Jerusalem," interposed Hagar, gazing abstractedly in her dish-pan.
"And there were great cedars and pines drooping down from the rocks," continued Noll, "and here mamma and I used to walk up and down when papa was busy in his study; and almost always he used to come out to walk a little with us before we were through. And one day we waited a long time for him to come out, and at last sat down on a rock, for mamma was not well then, and could not walk long without a rest; and as she looked across the smooth water, she said, 'And the building of the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass.' Though I was a good deal smaller than I am now, I knew what she meant, and of what she was thinking, for mamma used to talk about leaving me then; and I laid my head in her lap and cried a little, and said,—
"'Oh, don't talk of that, mamma, for what am I going to do?'"
Noll choked a little here at the remembrance, and Hagar drew a long breath.
"Then," continued Noll, with a quivering voice, "she bent her face over me and the tears in her eyes ran over on to my cheeks, and she said,—
"'Oh, my little Noll, if mamma could feel sure that you were ready to come after her into that city, she would never cry or mourn again!'