"She is indeed a wonderfully gracious child!" replied Dame Sprat. "She comes of a good family, and hath been well-taught both by her mother and by my lady, who keeps her much in her company. I cannot but think, however, that she owes much of her peculiar goodness and purity to a higher teacher than either. She is truly a child of grace and led by the Spirit of God. He would be a wretch indeed who should sully so pure a flower, yet I sometimes fear lest her great beauty should lead her into danger. I would Colonel Kirke had never set his evil eyes upon her face." "He would indeed be a wretch who could harm her," said Arthur; "but Kirke has done even worse things, unless he is greatly belied. The protection of the queen herself would be no shield to one on whom he fixed his fancy." "I dare say not," returned the dame, dryly. "Royal protection hath not been particularly favorable to virtue in these latter days." "Truly not! But you say Winifred is of good family? I thought she belonged to some of the farmers hereabout." "Her father is a sailor, the younger son of old Master Evans of the Stonehill farm, than whom no one is more respected in these parts. Her mother belongs to an ancient but somewhat decayed Devonshire family, of whom I dare say you know something—the Coffins of North Devon. She is, not distantly, related to your sister's first husband, Colonel Winthrop. I do not know whether my lady is aware of it, but indeed I think she must be, for this child is wonderfully like him, both in face and manner. He was a gracious youth, and one who, my husband used to say, had more of the root of the matter in him than many of those who made more words about it. I suppose you do not remember your brother Winthrop, Master Arthur?" "Hardly, dame, since he died the very year that I was born," replied Arthur. "But I have seen his portrait in my sister's cabinet, when I was a child. It had always a great charm for me—partly, I suppose, because I fancied some mystery attached to it. Do you know Winifred's age?" "She is fifteen, though she looks so much younger that she might easily pass for eleven. I trust, Master Arthur, I have no need to remind you—" "I understand you, dame," said Arthur, coloring high, as Dame Sprat paused, with her eyes fixed upon his face. "I cannot blame you for the thought, considering what are the manners of the time, but believe me, you do me great wrong. I have done many things in my life-time which had been better left undone, but I should be a fiend indeed if I were capable of doing aught that should injure yon fair child. I am right glad my sister has taken such a fancy to her for both their sakes, since Winifred could not have a kinder or more judicious friend, and I sometimes fear my poor Margaret hath but a dull life of it. But our supper is ready, and a savory one it is, thanks to good old Alwright. I am in a hurry to see if her sausages are as good as ever. Here, Mistress Puss, come and have your share."