he farm was
astir, and to-morrow she would surely reach Westhaven and the steamer,
and be able to start for that goal of all her wanderings--home.

It is easy enough before you go to sleep to resolve that you will rouse
yourself at a certain time, but not quite so simple to carry it out,
especially when you happen to be dead tired; and Honor's case was no
exception to the rule. Instead of waking at dawn, she slept peacefully
till nearly eight o'clock, and might even have slept on longer still if
the farmer and his son had not chanced to stroll into the barn on their
way to the stable. The boy was walking to the far end to hang a rope on
a nail, when he suddenly ran back, with his eyes nearly dropping from
his head with surprise.

"Dad!" he cried. "Dad! Come and look here! There's a girl sleeping on
the hay!"

Honor, newly aroused, was just raising herself up on her elbow; she had
not quite collected her senses, nor realized where she was. Startled by
the voices, she jumped up, with the instinctive impulse to run away;
then, seeing that two strangers stood between her and the open door,
she sat down again on the hay and burst out crying.

[Illustration: "STARTLED BY THE VOICES, SHE JUMPED UP"]

"There! There!" said the farmer. "Don't you take on so, missy; we ain't
a-goin' to hurt you. Tom, you'd best run in and fetch Mother hither!"

"Mother", a stout, elderly woman, arrived panting on the scene in a few
moments. No lady in the land could possibly have proved kinder in such
an emergency. She kissed and soothed poor Honor, took her indoors and
gave her hot water to bathe her face and wash her hands, and finally
settled her down in a corner of the delightfully clean farm-kitchen,
with a dainty little breakfast before her.

Honor felt sorely tempted to unburden herself of her story to this true
friend in need, but the dread that she would be sent back to St. Chad's
kept her silent, and she only said that she had been lost on the moor,
and was anxious to get to Westhaven, and to go home as speedily as
possible, all of which was, of course, absolutely true. Mrs. Ledbury,
no doubt, had her suspicions; but, seeing that questions disturbed her
guest, with true delicacy she refrained from pressing her, and
suggested instead that, as her husband was driving into Westhaven
market that morning, he could give her a lift, and save her a walk of
nearly seven miles.

Honor jumped at the opportunity; she felt stiff and worn out