“She has adopted Mrs. Carr,” said Miss Letty, laughing, while the old woman stood amazed, saying, “Weel, weel, the ways and freaks o’ she animals is yet to be accounted.” Explanations followed. “You see that I owe you two weeks’ board for her,” said Anne, gaily, “and that will pay Laddies’ license, so he will be a free gift.” “But she sha’n’t leave, she sha’n’t lose the dog,” she added, under her breath, to Miss Letty, who answered, “Of course not, if we can only manage to keep her here a few days longer to gain time, so that we can tell Miss Jule.” “I have it,” said Anne, and then turning she said: “Will you kindly stay here until day after to-morrow, to please me, Mrs. Carr? Then father and I will drive up in the morning and take Jill home. I know Mr. Hugh, who has bought the land, he’s a very particular friend of mine and Waddles’s, and I’ll tell him that I asked you.” Mrs. Carr was only too glad of an honourable day’s reprieve. Then, as the sun almost at setting, shone through the window, Anne opened the door and said that they must get their wheels and go on, for she had been so excited by what had passed that she was now doubly anxious lest those at home should worry. “Leddies, would ye--” began Mrs. Carr, hesitating, “would ye drink a cup of tea with me before ye go? It’ll not take a minute, and it’s likely the last time I’ll be offer’n it to company,” she added with grim humour. Anne accepted the invitation promptly with her fine breeding, not giving the Willoughbys a chance to demur. A brush fire was burning in the stove, and Anne saw by the heap of faggots outside how the woods had been kept clear of underbrush. The Herb Witch opened a narrow cupboard by the chimney and, as she did so, they caught sight of a dozen or so bits of old Lowestoft china, a tea-pot, cream pitcher, caddy, and half a dozen cups and saucers. “How beautiful!” exclaimed Martica Willoughby, who “collected.” “Do you know that those are valuable? Why don’t you sell them?” she continued indiscreetly. Miss Letty declared afterward that the Herb Witch suddenly grew so tall that she thought that her head would bump against the ceiling, as she answered: “Those same are my self-respect. When I’ve been tormented to beg and ask favours, I opened that door and looked at the bits that come from afar with me, and I minded those I came from, and whose will I crossed to my hurt. If ye sell your self-respect, leddy, that’s to be the real pauper,” and poor Martica forgot her college-bred sufficiency for once, and mumbled an apology. Quickly the tea was drawn, only Anne noticing that it was the last in the caddy, and the sugar the last in the bowl, and Mrs. Carr taking a small loaf from a stone jar cut it in thin slices and spread them with wild plum jam, from the same closet where there still remained a few pots. “I’m out of butter, as it haps,” she said dryly.