She had seated herself sidewise from the table, but in close proximity to that corner of it on which sat the old brown tea-pot from whose cracked nozzle issued the fragrant steam of the hot tea. By raising her hand she could have poured out a cup of the refreshing beverage for herself, but she smilingly declined the grim offer of the table's hospitalities that was made by the hostess. "I thank you, I do not wish for a morsel of food, but I shall be glad of a glass of a fresh, cold water. I have walked the whole distance and am very tired and thirsty." Haidee arose, and taking a small white pitcher from the cupboard in the corner, went out to the well. At the same moment old Peter arose, and taking his plate in hand, hobbled to the stove for a portion of the mutton-chop that had been left in the frying-pan for warmth. In that moment Mrs. Vance saw her opportunity. Her hand fluttered over the lid of the tea-pot and raised it noiselessly, while a quantity of white powder was poured from her other hand into the smoking-hot beverage. It was but the work of a moment. When the host hobbled back to his place she was leaning back in her chair, her hands folded over her lap, and a look of bland unconsciousness on her handsome face. Her nerves seemed steeled against emotion. Old Haidee entered and pouring a glass of water, offered it in silence. She took it and drained it thirstily with profuse thanks. "Have you brought us any money?" asked old Peter, sharply, looking up from his voracious feeding. "What if I have not?" she retorted, jestingly. "Then it will be the worse for you, my fine lady," he answered, threateningly. Old Haidee had resumed her place at the head of the table. "Pray go on with your dinner," said the visitor, in a patronising tone. The old woman poured a fresh cup of tea for her husband, diluted it plenteously with milk and coarse brown sugar, then replenished her own cup. At the moment when the old man was greedily gulping his portion down, Mrs. Vance put her hand into her pocket and drew out a netted purse of shining gold coin. "Here is a hundred dollars I was fortunate enough to get for you," said she, handing it reluctantly over to the woman; "and you must understand that I cannot possibly get another penny for you before Christmas; so try and economize it the best you can." Haidee gulped her tea down hurriedly as she clutched the purse, and the old man hurried around to his wife's side. "Divide fair is my motto," said he. "Give me the purse, Haidee, and I will count it for you." "No, you don't, old man," she answered, resolutely holding on to it while her husband's fingers worked eagerly. "I will count it myself! Not a coin will I ever see again if I trust this purse in your itching fingers!"