“I wish I’d tended to this when I was young and my heart was easier made new.  It’s next to impossible to make a crooked old tree turn and grow straight.”

“With God nothing is impossible,” I whispered encouragingly.

“Yes, the minister said that last night, and looked straight at me.  Maybe he saw trouble in my face, and wanted to help me in spite of myself.”  She grew calmer at last.  “Now I won’t worry you any longer, and I believe I feel better for telling you.  I mean to tell them to-night what a proud, stubborn wretch I’ve been, and ask them to pray for me.”

She got up and put on her shawl with a resolute air as if her mind was fully made up, no matter how hard the task might be.

“We’ll step in and see the Larkums.  You’ll hardly know them now, they’re so perked up and tidy.  Deary me! how far a little help goes sometimes when folks have a mind to help theirselves.”

On our way she said, with matter-of-fact calmness, at the same time setting my blood thrilling through my veins:  “I want you to talk with the doctor.  I just seen him going to see Mrs. Larkum, and that’s what made me hurry you off so soon from my place.”

“What do you want me to talk about?” I asked, with some surprise.

“Well, he was looking at Mr. Bowen’s eyes the other day, and he says they can cure him up in New York, so he’ll see just as well as ever.”

I stood perfectly still in the road, my surprise and gladness making me forgetful of everything.  “Can this be really true?” I gasped.

“It’s a fact; he told me so himself the last time he was there, all about it.  I can’t just mind all the long words, ’twould take a dictionary to follow him; but the long and the short of it is that he can go into a big hospital, mostly for such things; and there’s a great doctor there ’ll do it for nothing, provided Mr. Bowen lets a lot of students come and watch.  I guess that’s the way the doctors gets their pay from poor folks; and then, if they die, they have their bodies to cut and hack into.  But Mr. Bowen says they may bring all the people in the city if they want to.  He don’t mind how many looks at him while they’re fixing his eyes.”

“When will he go?”

“I’m afraid that depends on you.  We told the doctor so, and he asked what made a young lady like you set such store by them?”

“What reply did you give?”

“Oh, Mr. Bowen answered for us.  He said ’twas because you were one of the Lord’s children or was soon going to be; and one of them rare ones we read of in books.”

“Mr. Bowen is too partial to be a correct judge, I am afraid.”

“Well, the doctor kind of thought you’d find it pretty hard to be much of a Christian at Oaklands; but Mr. Bowen said, not any harder than them folks what had their heads cut off and were burnt for their religion.”

“Not any harder,” I said, more to myself than to Mrs. Blake, but ah! how hard it might be, only God could know.