"I was ugly to ye last night," said old Marg huskily, ignoring the beautiful hand she dared not touch.
"Never mind!" Angela answered sweetly. "You were tired."
"I am a bad old woman!" said old Marg, mistrustfully.
"Never mind that, either!" said Angela. "Let me be your friend. If you will, you shall never be cold or hungry again."
A profound wonder came into the old face—then it began to writhe, and from each eye oozed scant tears, seeking a channel amid the seams and wrinkles of the sunken cheeks.
"You will let me be your friend," urged Angela.
Still old Marg wept silently, the scant tears of age.
"You shall have a pleasant home and——"
A swift, suspicious glance darted from the wet eyes.