a foreboding of some dread news, to bear which would tax all her fortitude. Then she listened; it could not be Jesus, her Son-God, for He needed no opening of doors to appear to her. No, it must be a messenger, or, perchance, Joseph returned from Bethany; but the step was light for Joseph, who was no longer young.
Then, when the rapping came again, she stepped to the door and opened it.
The moon was high in the heavens and its rays entered the cottage in a long streak of bluish white. The virgin mother's golden hair looked silver beneath its radiance, and the pale face grew paler still. A woman stood without, but, with her back to the moon's glory, her features were undistinguishable.
"'T is I, Mary Magdalene, the sinner," said a voice faint with penitence and meekness.
"No longer a sinner, since thou art forgiven," said the elder woman, drawing her in lovingly.
"But what dost thou here at night? 'T is not safe for thee, Magdalene, with thy beauty, to come thus late at night; for, till men's eyes be opened to understand, they do not honour women as one day they will."
"Yet, for thy sake, all women henceforth will be honoured," exclaimed the emotional, loving Magdalene; and kneeling at the elder woman's feet, she raised the hem of her garment and kissed it reverently.
"Nay, do not do so," said the other hastily; "worship me not, for I am only human like thyself. 'T is of God's mercy that He has chosen me to be the mother of our Lord."
