ility.

"There you 'bide, child," announced Rachel, from her chair, "until such
time as you shall be sorry for your fault, and desire pardon.--Meg and
Lucrece, come and fold your sewing. 'Tis too dark to make an end
thereof this even."

"Good Mistress," entreated poor Barbara in deep dismay, "I beseech you,
leave my little maid come out thence. She was never thus dealt withal
in all her life afore!"

"No was she, [was she not], good wife?" returned Rachel unconcernedly.
"Then the sooner she makes beginning thereof, the better for her. Ease
your mind; I will keep her in yonder no longer than shall stand with her
good. Is she oft-times thus trying?"

"Never afore knew I no such a thing!" said Barbara emphatically.

"Only a little waywardness then, maybe," answered Rachel. "So much the
better."

"Marry, sweet Mistress, the child is hungered and aweary. Pray you,
forgive her this once!"

"Good lack!" plaintively exclaimed Lady Enville. "I hate discords
around me. Call Jennet, and bid her take Barbara into the hall, for it
must be nigh rear-supper."

Go and sit down comfortably to supper, with her darling shut in a dark
closet! Barbara would as soon have thought of flying.

"Leave her come forth, Rachel," said the child's mother.

"I love peace as well as thou, Sister; but I love right better,"
answered Rachel unmovedly. But she rose and went to the closet.
"Child! art thou yet penitent?"

"Am I what?" demanded Clare from within, in a voice which was not
promising for much penitence.

"Art thou sorry for thy fault?"

"No."

"Wilt thou ask pardon?"

"No," said Clare sturdily.

"Thou seest, Sister, I cannot let her out," decided Rachel, looking
back.

In utter despair Barbara appealed to Lady Enville.

"Mistress Walter, sure you have never the heart to keep the little maid
shut up in yon hole? She is cruel weary, the sweeting!--and an-hungered
to boot. Cause her to come forth, I pray you of your gentleness!"

Ah, Barbara! Appearances were illusive. There was no heart under the
soft exterior of the one woman, and there was a very tender one, covered
by a crust of rule and propriety, latent in the breast of the other.

"Gramercy, Barbara!" said Lady Enville pettishly, with a shrug of her
shoulders. "I never can deal with childre."

"Leave her come forth, and I will deal withal," retorted Barbara
bluntly.

"Dear heart! Rachel, couldst thou not leave her come? Never mind
waiting till