He approached the chair beside the stove and the tired eyes opened
slowly and looked at him. Unaccustomed tears filled those eyes and the
hard voice softened marvelously.
"Nancy was right," that changed voice was saying. "I am dying. Father,
you say you bring me forgiveness in his name, forgiveness for the great
wrong I did him. In his name, I will accept the gift. Father, I will
confess my sins to you and beg God's pardon for them."
Two hours later, when poor, tired Maggie, with aching arms and aching
back, returned from her day's work, she was surprised at the gentleness
with which he greeted her. Never had he been so kind before: she was
more accustomed to harsh words and even curses than kindness from him.
She set about preparing their evening meal and he actually ate what she
put before him without even once finding fault with the food or with
her. She could not understand it and felt vaguely alarmed.
Again the door opened and a face peered in anxiously. It would look as
if the owner of the face was fully prepared to slam the door and take to
her heels at a second's notice. The man in the chair by the stove smiled
faintly and called:
"Come in, Nancy; it's all right."
The little stooped figure sidled into the room but stood with her hand
upon the door ready for flight at any moment. She could not trust her
eyes and ears, she knew they must be deceiving her.
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