The girl's conscience smote her, as never before had she neglected for so long a time to go and see the faithful carer of her own motherless infancy, or else send needful provision for her impoverished old age. "A month!" her father repeated. "How is that, my child?" Then with a searching, anxious look into her downcast face, he said more gently: "You had best take Leet, and go to Ruth this very morning. The air and sun be fine enough to bring back the roses to your cheeks. I am thinking that you stop within doors too much o' late." Before Dorothy could reply, Aunt Lettice reminded him that Leet was to meet Jack in the town that morning. "Then I will walk, father," the girl said, "and take Pashar." With this she arose from the table and was about to leave the room, when 'Bitha put in a petition that she might accompany her. "No, 'Bitha," interposed her grandmother, "you made such a froach[1] of your sampler yesterday that you have it all to do over again this morning, as you promised me." She spoke with gentle firmness, and the child hung her head in silence. [1] Spoiled work. "Never mind, 'Bitha," Dorothy said soothingly, as she touched the small blonde head,--"mayhap we can have Leet take us to see Mistress Knollys this afternoon." "I'd sooner go on the water, Dot," the child suggested timidly. Then turning to the head of the house, she asked: "Cannot we go out in one of the boats, Uncle Joseph? We've not been on the water for a long time." And the blue eyes were lifted pleadingly to the old gentleman, who had just set down his emptied cup. "Nay, my child," he answered, "that you must not; and for the same reason that none have been for so long a time. None o' ye must go nigh the boats until the redcoats be gone from the Neck." "When will they go?" asked 'Bitha, pouting a little. "They have spoiled our good times for long past. We cannot go anywhere as we used." "Nor can others older than you, my child," he said with an unmirthful smile, as he arose from the table. "The soldiers are a pest in the town, little one. But till the King sees fit to call them off, or we find a way to make them go, you must be content to stop nigh the house, and away from the boats." Then he added teasingly, as he put his hand upon her head, "The redcoats may carry you off, if you put yourself in their way." 'Bitha shook off his hand as she gave her small head a belligerent toss. "If they tried to do that, Uncle Joseph, I'd push them over the rocks, as Mary Broughton did that redcoat we met in the cave. And oh, Dot,"--turning to her--"that 'minds me that the other day when I was with Leet and Trent, down in the ten-acre lot, that same redcoat was there, sitting in the door of the shed, with his horse standing nigh. And when he saw us coming, he hurried away. And Trent said 't was lucky no sheep were within the shed for him to steal." "He is a gentleman, 'Bitha, and would no more steal my father's sheep than would you or I!"