During the whole glad evening Wenna had been queen of the feast, and her subjects had obeyed her with a joyous submission. They did not take quite so kindly to Mabyn, for she was sharp of tongue and imperious in her ways, but they knew that they could tease her elder sister with impunity--always up to the well-understood line at which her authority began. That was never questioned. Then at nine o'clock the servants came, some on foot and some on dog-carts, and presently there was a bundling of tiny figures in rugs and wraps, and Wenna stood at the door to kiss each of them and say good-bye. It was half-past nine when that performance was over. "Now, my dear Miss Wenna," said the old clergyman, "you must be quite tired out with your labors. Come into the study; I believe the tray has been taken in there." "Do you know, Mr. Trewhella," said Mabyn boldly, "that Wenna hadn't time to eat a single bit when all those children were gobbling up cake? Couldn't you let her have a little bit--a little bit of cold meat, now?" "Dear! dear me!" said the kind old gentleman in the deepest distress, "that I should not have remembered!" There was no use in Wenna protesting. In the snug little study she was made to eat some supper; and if she got off with drinking one glass of sherry, it was not through the intervention of her sister, who apparently would have had her drink a tumblerful. It was not until a quarter past ten that the girls could get away. "Now I must see you young ladies down to the village, lest some one should run away with you," the old clergyman said, taking down his top-coat. "Oh no, you must not--you must not indeed, Mr. Trewhella!" Mabyn said anxiously. "Wenna and I always go about by ourselves; and far later than this, too. It is a beautiful, clear night. Why--" Her impetuosity made her sister smile. "You talk as if you would rather like to be run away with, Mabyn," she said. "But indeed, Mr. Trewhella, you must not think of coming with us. It is quite true what Mabyn says." And so they went out into the clear darkness together, and the door was shut, and they found themselves in the silent world of the night-time, with the white stars throbbing overhead. Far away in the distance they could hear the murmur of the sea. "Are you cold, Mabyn, that you tremble so?" said the elder sister. "No, only a sort of shiver in coming out into the night-air." Whatever it was, it was soon over. Mabyn seemed to be unusually cheerful. "Wenna," she said, "you're afraid of ghosts." "No, I'm not." "I know you are." "I'm not half as much afraid of ghosts as you are, that's quite certain." "I'll bet you you won't walk down through the wood." "Just now?" "Yes." "Why, I'll not only go down through the wood, but I'll undertake to be home before you, though you've a broad road to guide you." "But I did not mean you to go alone." "Oh," said Wenna, "you propose to come with me? Then it is you who are afraid to go down by yourself? Oh, Mabyn!"