A look of doubt and pain and fear came into Macdonald's eyes.
“She never came forward,” he said, hesitatingly. “She was afraid to come.”
“I have heard of her often, Mr. Macdonald, and I have heard that she was a good and gentle woman.”
“Aye, she was that.”
“And kind to the sick.”
“You may believe it.”
“And she loved the house of God.”
“Aye, and neither rain nor snow nor mud would be keeping her from it, but she would be going every Sabbath day, bringing her stockings with her.”
“Her stockings?”
“Aye, to change her feet in the church. What else? Her stockings would be wet with the snow and water.”