"She can give it up if she likes," said the Churchwarden, heartily. "It's her own whim." "Well, don't you fidget, Joseph, for Sage and I will do our best." "Of course you will, my dears," he said. "Here, Sage, fill me the old silver mug with ale out of number two." "But it is not tapped, uncle." "Ah!" he shouted, "who says it isn't tapped? Why I drove the spigot in night before last on purpose to have it fine. And now, old woman, if you want any lunch, have it, and then go and pop on your black silk and bonnet, while I order round the chaise, and I'll drive you in to town." "No, Joseph, no," exclaimed Mrs Portlock, who had now gathered the whole of the bottom of her apron into pleats and let them go. "I said last night that I would not go with you any more unless you left the whip at home. I cannot bear to sit in that chaise and see you beat poor Dapple as you do." "But I must have a whip, old girl, or I can't drive." "I'm sure the poor horse goes very well without." "But not through the snow, my dear," said Sage's uncle, giving her another of his droll looks. "Really, old girl, I wouldn't answer for our not being upset without a whip." "But you wouldn't use it without you were absolutely obliged, Joseph?" "On my honour as a gentleman," said Uncle Joseph; and his wife smiled and went up-stairs to get dressed, while Sage took the keys to go down to the cellar and draw the ale, as her uncle walked to the door, and she heard him shouting his orders to Dicky Dykes to harness Dapple and bring him round at once. Sage stood in the low-ceiled, old-fashioned parlour, with the quaintly-made silver tankard in her hand, waiting for her uncle to come in. There was a smile upon her lip, and as she listened now to the Churchwarden's loud, hearty voice shouting orders to the different men about the yard, and now to her aunt's heavy footsteps overhead, she was gazing straight into the great glowing wood fire, whose ruddy flames flickered and danced in the broad, blue-tiled chimney; and though it was so cold that the frost was making silver filigree upon the window panes, she felt all aglow, and kept on picturing in the embers the future that might have place. "By George!" roared the Churchwarden, coming in. "Hallo! didn't kick all the snow off. Here, let's melt it before the tyrant comes down;" and he shone all over his broad face, and his eyes twinkled with mirth, as he held first one boot and then the other to the blaze. "Now, the ale, Sage, my pet. Give's a kiss first, darling, to give it a flavour." He hugged her to his side, and gave her a loud-sounding smack upon the lips, holding her close to him as he smiled down in her eyes. "And I used to grumble, my pet, because I had no children," he said, tenderly, "little thinking I should have Sage and Rue to take care of till--Oh! I say. Ha-ha-ha! Look at the colour. Poor little woman then. Was he coming to-day?"