Miss Montaubyn herself for
the moment he did not see.
"What," he stammered hoarsely,
his voice broken with awe, "what
of the hideous wrongs--the woes
and horrors--and hideous wrongs?"
"There wouldn't be none if WE
was right--if we never thought nothin'
but `Good's comin'--good 's
'ere.' If we everyone of us thought
it--every minit of every day."
She did not know she was speaking
of a millennium--the end of
the world. She sat by her one
candle, threading her needle and
believing she was speaking of To-day.
He laughed a hollow laugh.
"If we were right!" he said. "It
would take long--long--long--to
make us all so."
"It would be slow p'raps. Well,
so it would--but good comes quick
for them as begins callin' it. It's
been quick for ME," drawing her
thread through the needle's eye
triumphantly. "Lor', yes, me legs is
better--me luck 's better--people 's
better. Bless yer, yes!"
"It 's true," said Glad; "she gets
on somehow. Things comes. She
never wants no drink. Me now,"
she applied to Miss Montaubyn, "if
I took it up same as you--wot'd
come to a gal like me?"
"Wot ud yer want ter come?"
Dart saw that in her mind was an
absolute lack of any premonition of
obstacle. "Wot'd yer arst fer in yer
own mind?"
Glad reflected profoundly.
"Polly," she said, "she wants to go
'ome to 'er mother an' to the country.
I ain't got no mother an' wot I
'ear of the country seems like I'd get
tired of it.
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