All doubt, all fear, all sorrow, all pain was gone.  She knew as by flashlight, her whole duty to her husband and her relatives and friends.  She was willing with all her heart to perform it.  She went to the little stream and bathed her face and she thought it said as it ran onward, "Happy woman!  Happy woman!" The trees looked larger and greener, and seemed to stand in a golden glow.  The shepherd’s rose and the stately foxgloves were more full of color and scent.  She heard the fine inner tones of the birds’ songs that Heaven only hears; and all nature was glorified and rejoiced with her.  She had a new heart and the old cares and sorrows had gone away forever.

Such conversions are among the deepest, real facts in the history of the soul of man.  They have occurred in all ages, in all countries, and in all conditions of life, for we know that they are the very truth, as we have seen them translated into action.  There is no use attempting to explain by any human reason facts of such majesty and mystery, for how can natural reason explain what is supernatural?

In a rapture of joy Jane walked swiftly home.  She was not conscious of her movements, the solid earth might have been a road of some buoyant atmosphere.  All the world looked grandly different, and she herself was as one born again.  Her servants looked at her in amazement and talked about “the change in Missis,” while the work of the household dropped from their hands until old Adam Boothby, the gardener, came in for his dinner.

“She passed me,” he said, “as I was gathering berries.  She came from the oak wood, and O blind women that you be, couldn’t you see she hed been with God?  The clear shining of His face was over her.  She’s in a new world this afternoon, and the angels in heaven are rejoicing over her, and I’m sure every man in Hatton will rejoice with her husband; he’s hed a middling bad time with her lately or I’m varry much mistaken.”

Then these men and women, who had been privately unstinting in their blame of Missis and her selfish way, held their peace.  She had been with God.  About that communion they did not dare to comment.

As it neared five o’clock, Jane’s maid came into the kitchen with another note of surprise.  “Missis hes dressed hersen in white from head to foot,” she cried.  “She told me to put away her black things out of sight.  I doan’t know what to think of such ways.  It isn’t half a year yet since the child died.”

“I’d think no wrong if I was thee, Lydia Swale.  Thou hesn’t any warrant for thinking wrong but what thou gives thysen, and thou be neither judge nor jury,” said an old woman, making Devonshire cream.

“In white from top to toe,” Lydia continued, “even her belt was of white satin ribbon, and she put a white rose in her hair, too.  It caps me.  It’s a queer dooment.”

“Brush the black frocks over thy arm and then go and smarten thysen up a bit.  It will be dinner-time before thou hes thy work done.”