"A little every day," she said; and the next morning she poured a portion into a jug that stood for drinking purposes in her mistress's room. That afternoon Mace went up to her bedroom with a bunch of flowers from the garden, which she placed in a shallow basin, and the contents of the jug were used to keep them alive! The same evening, finding the jug empty, Janet refilled it, and again poured in a little of the contents of the flask. She had just completed her task when she heard Mace's step upon the stairs, and in her haste to replace the stopper of the flask she let it fall upon the floor, where it broke; and she had only time to throw the broken glass out of the window, and drag a piece of carpet over the stain on the floor, before her mistress entered the room. Janet escaped as soon as possible and sought refuge in the kitchen, from whence she stole round to the garden and picked up the broken bottle, then ran back, throwing the pieces into the water-race as she hurried along. "I dare say she will have taken enough," she said to herself, "and, if she has not, I'll try no more. I hate myself for doing it. Poor girl, she looks more as if she was going to be buried than married." In fact, Janet's heart was not very deeply touched, and she would have been ready to hand over her young affections to anybody a little more eligible than Master Wat Kilby, who was rather too old for her taste. During these busy days, too, there was so much to take her attention, for she had all a girl's love and excitement in an approaching wedding. First and foremost there came a present to her from Sir Mark in the shape of what was to her a most handsome dress. "That's for thee, pretty Janet," he said; "and when we come back from our wedding jaunt I'll bring thee a handsome husband as sure as I live. One kiss for it," he said; and he took it, and another and another. How many dozens he would have taken it is impossible to say, only the founder's step was heard, and Janet fled with her dress by another way. "The spell be working somehow," she said to herself joyously. "May be he will turn her over yet, and marry me himself." She hurried up to her room to inspect her gown-piece, and smooth her ruffled hair. "Oh, these men, how wicked they be!" she cried half-petulantly, as she gazed at her flushed cheeks in a damp-stained mirror. "I be handsomer than mistress pale-face down stairs," she cried, giving her head a toss. "Fie on her! why does she not go and wed with Captain Culverin, and leave me Sir Mark." The gown-piece again took her attention, and she folded it in pleats and tucks, and draped herself in it, ending by doubling it over and over, and laying it flat beneath her bed. "I'll go see her presents now," she said; and she descended to Mace's room to find the jug untouched.