_Clary_ had given him, and the outside Passenger pulled out a Case-bottle of Brandy, and the good Woman gave them hot Water, and supplied Tumblers and Cups, and they had a very seasonable Luncheon. The Turnpike-Man said he had not taken Tolls to the Amount of Tenpence during the last two Days. His Wife, touched by _Gatty's_ fondling the Baby, said with a kind of Remorse, that she wished she could be sure all was well with a young Woman carrying an Infant, who had, with Tears in her Eyes, begged, the Day before, to chafe its poor little Limbs at the Fire for a few Minutes before she crossed the Moor. "There was Something wild and unsettled in her Look," said the good Woman, "that I did not like, and I asked her, 'Why cross the Moor at all?' she said, she must, for her only Chance of Shelter; I asked whence she came, but she would not say. So the only Thing was to make her as comfortable as I could while she remained--there was some good strong Pease Soup on the Fire, and I gave her a Basin of it, with a Slice of Bread. I never saw a poor Soul so grateful; she said it warmed her to the Heart. I also made her take off her wet Stockings, which were fine but very old, and put on an old Pair of thick Woollen ones I had given up wearing; and I buttoned a Pair of old Gaiters over all. So then she suckled the Babe and went her Ways, praying GOD to bless me; and I watched her straggling across the Moor, and now and then plunging into a Snow-Drift. My Heart ached for her, it did!--and I couldn't help thinking, in the Night, that when the Thaw came, we might find her poor Corpse under the Snow."