"Whatever made the
marks, I know that they are not dishonorable. So I never think of them at
all, but see only the beautiful side--which is really you, you know."
"No,"--answered Myra Willard, gently,--"my scars are not dishonorable. But
the world does not see with your pure eyes, dear child. The world sees
only the ugly, disfigured side of my face. It never looks at the other
side. And listen, dear heart, so the world often sees dishonor where there
is no dishonor It sees evil in many things where there is only good."
"Yes," returned the girl, "but you have never taught me to see with the
eyes of the world. So, to me, what the world sees, does not matter."
"Pray that it may never matter, child," answered the woman with the
disfigured face, earnestly.
Then, as they went out to the porch, she asked, "Did you meet Mr. Oakley
as you were coming home?"
Sibyl laughed and colored with a confusion that was new to her, as she
answered, "Yes, I did--and he scolded me."
"About your going unarmed?"
"No,--but he told me about that too. I don't see why, whenever a poor
criminal escapes, he always comes into _our_ mountains. I don't like to
'pack a gun'--unless I'm hunting.
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