"I suppose you stayed to order the dame's house and cook her supper for her," continued her mother. "I like to have you do all you can for the poor body, for she is a good woman, and old and helpless withal, but it is not well to be out after sunset, now that the dews are so heavy, and besides it is not safe in these troublous times. But you were late in setting out, and it is something of a walk to the cottage. Come now and have your supper. Priscy has kept a bit of apple pie for you, and you shall have some clotted cream, for a treat. So put away your basket, and sit down by the fire, for you look pale and chilly." Winifred ate her supper in silence, and then sat still by the fire, thinking how she should contrive to tell her mother of her adventure. She knew it was time for her to go to bed, but still she lingered, watching Dame Magdalen and the maids as they bustled about, finishing up the work and making things tidy for the night. At last, her mother noticed her as she sat in the corner of the wide chimney. "Come, child, why do you sit here?" said she, hastily. "You should have been in bed an hour ago." "I should like to sit up as long as you do, to-night, mother." "Why, what has come over the child!" said her mother. "I should think you would be ready for your bed, after such a walk: and you are looking pale still!" she added. "Did anything frighten you, Winifred?" "No, mother, but I should like to sit up to-night." "Well, have thy way for once!" said her mother. "It is not often you take a fancy, I will say that for you. See now, I have finished all, and the maids are gone to bed. I will take my knitting and sit down by the fire, and you shall tell me a tale from your favorite book." Winifred had another sort of tale to tell, but she delayed it till her mother was seated at her knitting. It was nothing unusual for Dame Magdalen to sit down by the fire with her wheel or her stocking after all the rest were gone to bed. It was thus she gained time for quiet thought over the events of the day, for disentangling domestic perplexities, and for those devotional musings which were meat and drink to her thirsty soul. Winifred saw that all the doors were shut, and then drew close to her mother's side. "Mother," said she, "I have found out what frightened Jack." "Aye!" said her mother. "Then there really was something the matter?" "Matter enough, though there was no ghost in the case," said Winifred, and she proceeded to relate, in the lowest tones, the history of her adventure. "I know it was dangerous, mother," she concluded, "but what else could I do? I am certain he would have died if I had gone away and left him. Was I wrong?" she asked, anxiously, as she received no answer from Dame Magdalen, who had dropped her knitting and sat looking at the fire. "Should I have gone on my way and left the poor gentleman to perish?"