There seemed imminent danger of another flood of tears, as Winifred ceased speaking, and busied herself with the fringe of her tippet. "It is not necessarily your duty to marry a man because he asks you," said Lady Peckham, smiling. "But, Winifred, I would have you consider seriously before you reject this offer. It is a very advantageous one, in every respect." "I know it, my lady, and far above my deserts, but—" "You have seen a great deal of Doctor Mercer, and that is a way to become well acquainted with him," pursued her friend. "What is there about him that you do not like?" "Nothing, my lady! He is one of the best men I ever knew! To be sure, I have not known many." "He has a good estate besides his practice, and his family is, to say the least, equal to your own." "Superior, my lady! I have not forgotten that I am but the daughter of a merchant captain, and the granddaughter of a Somersetshire yeoman," said Winifred, not without a touch of pride. "I trust not to forget my station." "Your mother belonged to one of our oldest Devonshire families," said Lady Peckham. "I do not think there is any disparity upon that score. Sir John Corbet claims the pleasure of paying your marriage portion, and my good cousin Judith and myself will see that you have everything becoming your position. Think of it, Winifred! Such an opportunity of establishing yourself will not come every day. Think well before you decide!" To judge from her face, Winifred did not seem to be thinking favorably. Her friend watched her with something like a smile lurking in her eyes and the corners of her mouth, as Winifred sat very erect, looking down at the sprigs of rosemary which she was pulling to pieces for Alwright to distil, and upon which she was bestowing a good deal more strength than was necessary. "Well, my child," said she, at last, "you must not keep the good man in doubt longer than you can help. What shall I say to him?" "I cannot marry him, my lady!" Winifred's voice was husky, but firm, and her face had regained its calmness. "He is very good—too good for me, but I cannot be his wife. It would not be right! I am sure it would not! Oh, my dear lady, do not be angry with me, but indeed, indeed I cannot marry Doctor Mercer!" "My dear child, I have no right or cause to be angry, since the doctor's loss is my gain. I have no mind to part with you, Winifred, though I could of course do so, if it seemed best for you. You are still young, and your health is not yet firmly established—though, as my cousin Judith would say, that is the more reason for your marrying a doctor." "Please, my lady!"