Winifred had no objection to the cordial, fragrant with rose-leaves and spices, but she could not help an inward shudder at the thought of my lady's balm, even if it were to be followed by a liberal slice of Mrs. Alwright's excellent gingerbread, stuffed with citron and almonds. She had helped at the distilling of that balm, and had a lively recollection of the double handful of rod earthworms and the six woodlice which went into the still, along with the herbs and drugs, the flour of coral and amber, the spice and flowers, which went to make up the medicine. She earnestly assured Mrs. Alwright that she was not at all ill, only somewhat tired from having taken a long walk the day before, and added that she was sure the rose cordial would do her good, especially if she might go and walk in the garden awhile. Mrs. Alwright bustled about to procure these refreshments, and looked on with great satisfaction while Winifred sipped the fragrant medicine, declaring that she looked better already. "And, Winifred, as you say, it will do you good to be in the air; so you may take my little basket, and gather all the rose-hips which you can find in the maze. I am going to make some conserve for my brother's cough, and you shall help me prepare it. 'Tis a most sovereign thing for a cold and cough, as you will do well to remember." Winifred could not repress an expression of thankfulness when she found her way so smoothed before her. She had half filled her basket with the red shining rose-berries, or hips, as they are called, and began to fear that Lady Peckham was not coming out to-day, when she saw her patroness approaching, and stood still, dropping her little courtesy as she drew near. Lady Peckham was a woman past fifty years old, but still possessing the remains of great beauty, though she was thin and worn, and her face wore an expression of sadness—that kind of sadness which has grown so habitual as to become a par of the character itself. She had been first married at seventeen, to a distant cousin of her own. It was a marriage of affection, and one not altogether favored by her parents, for they were stanch loyalists, and had suffered greatly in the royal cause, while Captain Winthrop was a rising young officer in the army of the Commonwealth. But Lord Carew was "out at elbows" in money matters, and not in good odor with the dominant party, and the countenance and assistance of the young Colonel of Ironsides were not to be despised.