His new patron had given him a five-dollar bill; and before he reached the Stedman home he stopped in a grocery store and loaded up his arms with bundles. And then, seized by a sudden thought, he went into a notion store and set down his bundles and purchased a clean, white linen collar, and a necktie of royal purple and brilliant green--already tied, so that it would always be perfect in shape. Then he went into the Stedmans, and the widow and the youngest children sat round and listened open-eyed to his tale. And then came Sophie, and he had to tell it all over again. The girl's eyes opened wide with excitement when he came to the end of his recital. “Miss Wygant!” she exclaimed. “Miss Gladys Wygant?” “Yes,” said Samuel. “You've heard of her?” “I've seen her!” exclaimed Sophie eagerly. “Twice!” “You don't mean it,” he said. “Yes. Once she came to our church festival at Christmas.” “Does she belong to your church?” “It's the mission. Great folks like her wouldn't want us in the church with them. She goes to St. Matthew's, you know--up there on the hill. But she came to the festival at the mission and helped to give out the presents. And she was dressed all in red--something filmy and soft, like you'd see in a dream. And, oh, Samuel--she was so beautiful! She had a rose in her hair--and such a sweet perfume--you could hardly bear it! And she stood there and smiled at all the children and gave them the presents. She gave me mine, and it was like seeing a princess. I wanted to fall down and kiss her feet.” “Yes,” said Samuel understandingly. “And to think that you've met her!” cried Sophie in ecstasy. “And talked with her! Oh, how could you do it?” “I--I don't think I did it very well,” said Samuel. “What did you say to her?” “I don't remember much of it.” “I never heard her voice,” said Sophie. “She was talking, the other time I saw her, but the machinery drowned it out. That was in the mill--she came there with some other people and walked about, looking at everything. We were all so excited. You know, her father owns the mill.” “No, I didn't know it,” replied Samuel. “He owns all sorts of things in Lockmanville. They're very, very rich. And she's his only daughter, and so beautiful--everybody worships her. I've got two pictures of her that were in the newspapers once. Come--you must see them.” And so the two rushed upstairs; and over the bed were two faded newspaper clippings, one showing Miss Gladys in an evening gown, and the other in dimity en princesse, with a bunch of roses in her arms. “Did you ever see anything so lovely?” asked the girl. “I made her my fairy godmother. And she used to say such lovely things to me. She must be very kind, you know--no one could be so beautiful who wasn't very, very good and kind.” “No,” said Samuel. “She must be, I'm sure.” And then a sudden idea came to him. “Sophie!” he exclaimed--“she said I was good looking! I wonder if I am.”