"And she's helped you already, Clara; you're feeling ever so much happier—I can tell that by your voice."
Clara turns slowly round, and points to an Army shield of silver, showing white against her dark dress. What a changed Clara! The tousled hair is smooth enough now under the neat cap, the dress is tidy, the apron clean. But it is not at hair or at dress that Betty is looking, not even at the shield-brooch. No, it is on the smiling face that Betty fixes her eyes.
For the old, sullen, discontented expression has gone, and the plain little face is so bright with joy and triumph that it is sweet to look upon.
What a changed Clara!
"Clara!" she cries, and drops the toast, and throws her arms round the little servant's neck. "So we're both Soldiers now—we're comrades," she whispers. "Ah, you know now just the difference salvation can make—don't you, Clara?"
"Oh, yes, miss indeed I do!"
"God bless you, Clara!"
"God bless you, miss! it was all through you," whispers Clara, shyly.