Wesley knew that not much time was left to him and his friends to take action as it seemed right to him. The day was Friday, and he would preach on Sunday and state his views in respect of Pritchard and his following, so that it should be known that he discountenanced their acts. He had seen and heard enough during his ride through the valley to let him know how imminent was disaster to the whole system of which he was the exponent. He had succeeded in banishing from his mind every thought which he had had in regard to Nelly Polwhele; so that it was somewhat disturbing for him to come upon her close to the entrance gates to the Court. She was carrying a wicker bird cage containing two young doves; he heard her voice talking to the birds before he recognised her. For a moment lie felt that he should stop his horse and allow her to proceed so far in front of him that she should reach the village without his overtaking her; but a moment's reflection was enough to assure him that to act in this way would be cowardice. He had succeeded in banishing her from his mind, and that gave him confidence in his own power to abide by the decision to which he had come respecting her. To avoid her at this time would have been to confess to himself that he was not strong enough to control his own heart; and he believed that he was strong enough to do so. Therefore he found himself once more beside her and felt that he was without a trouble in the world. Of course she became very red when he spoke her name and stooped from his saddle to give her his hand. She had blushed in the same way an hour before when old Squire Trevelyan had found her with his daughters and said a kindly word to her. “I have been to my young ladies,” she said, “and see what they have given to me, sir.” She held up the cage and the birds turned their heads daintily in order to eye him. “They were found in a nest by one of the keepers, and as my ladies are going to London they gave the little birds to me. I hope they will thrive under my care.” “Why should they not?” he said. “You will be a mother to them and they will teach you.” She laughed with a puzzled wrinkle between her eyes. “Teach me, sir?” “Ay, they will teach you, I would fain hope, how becoming is a sober shade of dress even to the young.” “Do I need to be taught such a lesson, Mr. Wesley?” she cried, and now her face was in need of such a lesson. She spoke as if hurt by his suggestion.