Sometimes Julie coaxed her with flattery, into tidying herself up. “That black dress certainly is a handsome piece of goods, and that gray one, too,” she said. “Why, of course I got handsome clothes,” Miss Fogg retorted with a proud jerk of her head. “Why, who do you take me for? I don’t belong with all the common trash that lives in this house. I’ve sewed for all the best people in town. I ain’t used to common people; I’m used to quality. But these folks here--they’re as common as pig-tracks. You don’t s’pose I’d run with them, do you? An’ I’ve always been used to keeping myself nice an’ elegant. I wasn’t one to lay around in wrappers all day. But now--Oh my Lord!” “Look,” Julie hastily interposed, forestalling the rising tears. “Just see how nice you look with your hair fixed like I’ve done it to-day.” She held a mirror up, and Miss Fogg peered blindly at herself for a moment in silence. But as she looked a dim satisfaction grew in her face. “Why that looks real nice, don’t it?” she said, turning her head to one side with self-conscious shyness. Indeed, with her indomitable persistency Julie had won out of this human ruin some of the mellowed grace of a more fortunate old age. With the creative power of her devotion she had gone forth into the dark waters engulfing the old woman, had struggled there, and dragged her back into life; and having won a precarious hold upon her affection, she poured forth the overflowing joy of her heart in her service. Miss Fogg continued to stare at her reflection, her lip trembling slightly. It seemed as though the vision of her past self was given faintly back to her out of the mirror. She bent over and looked still closer. “Why,” she said slowly, “that’s _me_--that’s the way I used to be ’fore I lost my ambition.” She raised her eyes to Julie with a faltering surprise. “Why,” she cried, “Why you’ve give me back to myself.” She patted the ruffles at her neck, and smoothed her hair with a fleeting return of vanity. “I was always a great hand to keep myself fixed up nice,” she boasted. “An’ now you’ve put new life into me.” Julie looked at her suddenly, her eyes wide and shining. “That was what I came for,” she said solemnly. She took the old withered hand and pressed it against her own breast that was so warm and full of living happiness. “I came to bring you life,” she repeated. “I have so much--I’m so happy, so alive! I want you to share it.” She still pressed the withered hand against her breast with her warm and eager ones. “It’s all here in my heart, all the happiness and the life that any one in the world could need. It’s here for you. Don’t you feel it running out to you?”