Winifred felt as though all the sunshine of her life had gone out in a moment. She remembered how dissatisfied she had been the past winter—how weary of everything, even of her precious lessons, and she felt as though God had punished her for her discontent by taking away the blessing for which she had been ungrateful. She bit her lip, and busied herself with the fastening of her basket, but all was of no use. The tears would come, and with a sudden impulse, she dropped upon her knees by the side of her good old friend, and laying her head in her lap, she sobbed as if her heart would break. "Aye, poor dear! I knew just how you would take it!" said Mrs. Alwright, wiping her own eyes and smoothing Winifred's hair, entirely regardless for once of the detriment to her own clean starched lawn apron. "Such a quiet and pleasant time as we have had this winter since Sir Edward went away! So much as you have improved, and just as you have learned to do cut-work and satin-stitch so nicely, and all the darning stitches as well as I could myself. I meant to begin with you in carpet-work and tapestry the very next week, and give you the wool and silk to work a cushion for a birthday present. I got them from Bristol only last night. But you shall have them just the same, and I will give you a lesson every day that we stay at the Hall. It shall go hard, but I will find the time somehow or other. I will give you my small frame, too, and you are so clever, I make no doubt you will be able to go on by yourself. So cheer up, my dear, for no doubt it will be all for the best in the end, and don't let us waste our precious time in crying, for that would be very foolish, now that we have so little left." Winifred felt the truth of this last remark. She dried her eyes, and prepared to make the most of the few pleasant hours she was likely to enjoy. Mrs. Alwright brought out her frame and prepared her canvas, and Winifred for a time almost forgot her troubles in the excitement of seeing a pretty pink rose-bud growing up, as it were, under her fingers. "Does my lady like going to London?" she asked, as she presently stopped to thread her needle.