Directly breakfast was over a postcard had to be taken to the letter box for mother. The angel's thought had brought a bright light into the girl's face. A little fellow was coming towards her, and he was crying; the school bell had awakened fears. Instantly her arm was round his neck.
"Cheer up! It will soon be going-home time."
"Will it?" asked the child, and his sobs ceased.
"Yes. I felt like crying this morning. But it's better to be brave."
A business man was hurrying along, but paused to watch the work of comforting. His heart was heavy, too, but her words: "It will soon be going-home time—it's better to be brave," like a sweet chime, kept with him all the day.
As the girl re-entered the house a song was on her lips, and a tired woman turning a washing-machine next door caught it. She looked round her—there was such a heap of work to do—and dinner to think of for husband and children. No wonder there was a worried look on her face.
"Hope on! hope on! Though long the road and drear. Hope on! hope on! The sunlit hours are near."