Lady Peckham was a true lady, both by nature and education, as well as by name, and though she was all the time impatient to be gone, she listened graciously while Gilbert Evans, in few but sensible words, expressed his gratitude for her kindness to his daughter. He ended by requesting her ladyship's acceptance of a valuable and curious piece of China vase which he had brought from the East. Lady Peckham was really pleased with the present, which was of a kind highly valued at that time, and she was also pleased with the feeling which had evidently prompted it. So there was great satisfaction upon all sides, and it was arranged that Gilbert should himself carry the vase to the Hall next day. I will not attempt to describe the meeting between the brother and sister, nor that between the lady and the old woman whom her father had so deeply injured, and who had had such a rare opportunity of returning good for evil. It is enough to say that the dame welcomed her guest with true Christian politeness, and that Arthur greeted his sister with the warmest affection—that Winifred kept watch at the door while the interview lasted, and that it was settled that Arthur should come up to the Hall early the next morning, that he might go from thence to Master Evans' house. The brother and sister had so many things to say to each other, that it was not till Dame Sprat herself warned the lady of the danger of such a long visit that they could make up their minds to separate. On farther consideration, it was decided that Arthur should not risk being recognized by any of the servants at the Hall, but that he should come at once to the farm and thence depart without farther leave-taking. The next morning Winifred was at work in the garden, gathering various kinds of herbs and seeds. It was a task in which she took great delight, finding much pleasure in observing the forms and markings of the leaves, and the different ways in which the seeds were provided for. She was so busy that she did not look up till she heard her father's voice close beside her. "Where is your grandfather, daughter? Here is a gentleman who desires to see him about buying a horse." Winifred looked up with a start. She could hardly believe her eyes. Could this middle-aged clergyman in spectacles, with his full periwig, flapped hat, and somewhat worn black suit—could this be Arthur Carew? "Is this your daughter, my friend?" said the stranger, in formal, measured tones. "Truly, a fine child, and one my Lady Peckham tells me, of great promise. I think I have seen you with my lady at the Hall, have I not, my little maid?" he asked, while the least bit of a roguish twinkle showed itself in his eyes. "But I dare say you do not remember me." Winifred could only courtesy and say that she remembered the gentleman very well. "Will it please you to walk into the house, and wait for my father, sir?" said Gilbert Evans. "He is in the house field, but I will soon call him."