"Not to those who are not interested in the things, Miss
Elizabeth."
"What things?"
Mrs. Landholm paused a bit.
"A friend to go with you through life's journey — a sure friend and a strong one; a home ready at the journey's end; the name and the love of forgiven children, instead of the banishment of offenders; a clean heart and a right spirit in place of this sickly and sin-stricken nature! — a Saviour and a Father instead of a Judge."
It was impossible to forget the reddening eyes and trembling lips which kept the words company. Elizabeth found her own quivering for sympathy; why, she could not imagine. But there was so much in that face, — of patience and gladness, of strength and weakness, — it was no wonder it touched her. Mrs. Landholm's eyes fell to her work and she took up her stocking again and went on darning; but there was a quick motion of her needle that told how the spirits were moving.
Elizabeth sat still and did not look at her book. Miss Cadwallader hugged herself in her wrapper and muttered under her breath something about "stupid."
"Are your feet warm?" said Elizabeth.
"Yes."
"Then come! —"
Within their own room, she shut the door and without speaking went about with a certain quick energy which she accompanied with more than her usual dignified isolation.