"Well, Winifred, are you helping Mrs. Alwright, to-day?" asked Lady Peckham, kindly. "She tells me you are making great progress with your work, and she is intending to teach you to do carpet-work. But you are not looking well, sweetheart?" "I am quite well, my lady, but—" Winifred glanced around, and, seeing no one near, drew close to Lady Peckham, and said in a low voice: "I have a message and a token for you, my lady." "And if you have, why did you not give them to me before?" asked Lady Peckham, in some displeasure. "Or why did not you send them to me by the hands of Mrs. Alwright?" "Because I was to put them into your own hands, and when no one was by," answered Winifred, modestly but firmly. "It is a matter of life and death, my lady!" "Winifred, what do you mean?" asked Lady Peckham, surprised and somewhat startled. "You know, little one, I am not to be trifled with." For all reply Winifred drew the watch and the packet from her bosom, and placed them in Lady Peckham's hands. The lady looked at the watch, and turned so pale that Winifred, alarmed, expected her to sink to the ground. "Who gave you this?" she asked, in a hoarse whisper. "If you please, my lady, it is a long story, and some one might be within hearing, or listening behind the hedge," replied Winifred, in a low tone. "You are right!" said Lady Peckham, recovering herself with a great effort. "Come with me." Winifred followed her benefactress through the garden and along the terrace till they came to a little door in the bottom of one of the many turrets which adorned the front of the Hall. Lady Peckham opened the door with a key which she drew from her pocket, and led the way up a winding stone stair lighted with narrow windows, and into a little chamber where Winifred had never been before. It was very bare of furniture, having only a table, chair, and footstool, with a small Persian rug on the floor before the table, upon which lay a large Bible and one or two other volumes. A couple of shelves well filled with books hung against the wall, which was decorated with two or three pictures, one of which Winifred recognized at once as a portrait of the wounded cavalier who lay concealed at Dame Sprat's cottage. "Wait for me here!" said Lady Peckham, and went out, shutting the door after her. Winifred waited for what seemed to her a very long time. She looked at the figures on the tapestry which covered the walls and which was adorned with the story of the Deluge, executed in colored wools and silks, and wondered who had the patience to do all that work. She read the titles of all the volumes, and thought Lady Peckham must be a happy woman to possess so many books, and have so much time to read them. She looked at the great Bible bound in red velvet, and wondered whether there were any pictures in it.