He slept soon, heavily; the young slumber hard and well; but to his mother no such relief could come--the poor mother who felt a pang beneath her anger, because her boy could sleep though he would not speak to her. Poor Jenny, sleepless, sat up in her bed that night, and, with the pain of the bruise which her husband’s hand had caused, felt the anxiety of new forebodings which she had not experienced before. Afraid of her children with the fear of a timid mother, and longing to trust them, to be at peace with them, she yet knew that she must gather courage to address them, and demand from their lips the story of the night--though herself as ready to shrink before the prospect as a nervous child before the confession of its fault. She did not murmur, or pray, or even weep, she tried to submit as she always did submit; it was only her tremulous fear of danger near her treasures, which compelled her to attempt some action for their good. ‘I can’t bear to vex them,’ she murmured to her pillow as, at last worn out, she laid down her head to sleep--a sleep as broken and fitful as the dread of an anxious mother, whose power to guard those she loves is more feeble than her will. CHAPTER XI THE FARMER’S DAUGHTER THE next day Farmer Robson’s daughter was seated at her work, when the sound of footsteps announced a visitor; and, as she rose to meet the disturber of her solitude, the door opened, and Annie Salter entered the room. Her appearance was not at all expected there; for Annie was not often a visitor at the Farm. And perhaps it might also be correct to say that her appearance at that moment was not at all desired, since Alice had come upstairs when her noontide meal was done with the intention of allowing herself a quiet afternoon. On her little bed in the corner there lay in heaps a variety of garments in much need of repair, for it had been her intention, as an industrious daughter of the house, to accomplish the family mending in these hours of loneliness. She was an exquisite needlewoman, and the prospect of stitching did not alarm her--already she had taken up a pair of socks, and with needle and cotton in hand was ready to begin. When Annie entered she remained standing where she had risen, with her left hand deep in the sock and her needle in the right.