"You are but a child, and do not understand these matters," said Colonel Kirke. "I know that, and therefore I would rather be excused from speaking of them." "Colonel Kirke, it is full time we were going, if you mean to be at home by midnight," said Sir Edward, impatiently. "Your supper will be spoiled by waiting, and my lady will be uneasy at our delay." "I am at your service," said Colonel Kirke, rising. "Farewell, dame, and thank you for your courtesy. I will leave you a brace of wild ducks for your fair cookmaid to exercise her skill upon, and here is a broad piece or two to repay your hospitality, and for the sake of old times. Nay, I pray you refuse not my gift. It will be at least one item to my credit in the account you spoke of." "I need no payment, and you are heartily welcome to all you have had," replied Dame Sprat. "But I will not refuse your gift, which is pleasing to me as a token of kindness for an old acquaintance, and will furnish me with many needed comforts. I am often in want, and indeed should starve but for the kindness of Dame Evans and her daughter. Sir Edward, present my humble duty to your excellent lady. Farewell, gentlemen, both—may God bless you!" "That is a stately old dame!" said Kirke, after they had left the cottage, followed by the dogs, one of which, however, showed no disposition to go. "With what an air she delivered her blessing, as she bade us farewell! Methinks an archbishop could hardly have done it better. She was well to pass in the world when I knew her in Devonshire. How has she become so poor? Her husband was accounted a rich man, and one that knew how to keep what he had." "He was a chaplain in Cromwell's army," replied Sir Edward, "and Lord Carew, upon whose land they lived, turned the family adrift after the old man's death. She would hardly have found a harbor upon my estate, but this hut and the small bit of arable land on which it stands belong to Master Evans, one of our substantial yeomen, and a loyal man both to church and state. Indeed, one can hardly grudge the poor old creature her miserable shelter, though I dare swear she is as rank a puritan and republican at heart as ever her husband was. She is, as you see, somewhat of a preacher herself, but otherwise harmless enough." "It would be hardly fair to complain of her preaching, since she gave us of the best she had at the same time. It is amazing, however, the constancy these roundheads show. I make no doubt this infirm old creature would go to the stake with the same dignified composure with which she welcomed us to her fireside, and sing psalms till the smoke stopped her breath. I am glad I was able to afford her some help, for she was kind to me when I had but few friends, and I believe saved my life in that same battle with the long-horned bull. There, your dog is uneasy again!"