said the lady, "I scarcely think anything can be worse than
what he undergoes at home. When I hear the terror and misery of his
voice, I doubt whether we did him any true kindness by hindering his
father from killing him outright by the shaking of his old coach."

"Nay, sister, we strove to do our duty, though it may be we have
taken on ourselves a further charge."

CHAPTER IV: IMP OR NO IMP

"But wist I of a woman bold
Who thrice my brow durst sign,
I might regain my mortal mould,
As fair a form as thine."

SCOTT.

At last came a wakening with intelligence in the eyes. In the
summer morning light that streamed through the chinks of the
shutters Mrs. Woodford perceived the glance of inquiry, and when she
brought some cool drink, a rational though feeble voice asked those
first questions, "Who? and where?"

"I am Mrs. Woodford, my dear child. You remember me at Winchester.
You are at Portchester. You fell down and hurt yourself, but you
are getting better."

She was grieved to see the look of utter disappointment and
weariness that overspread the features, and the boy hardly spoke
again all day. There was much drowsiness, but also depression, and
more than once Mrs. Woodford detected tears, but at other times he
received her attentions with smiles and looks of wondering
gratitude, as though ordinary kindness and solicitude were so new to
him that he did not know what to make of them, and perhaps was
afraid of breaking a happy dream by saying too much.

The surgeon saw him, and declared him so much better that he might
soon be taken home, recommending his sitting up for a little while
as a first stage. Peregrine, however, seemed far from being
cheered, and showed himself so unwilling to undergo the fatigue of
being dressed, even when good Dr. Woodford had brought up his own
large chair--the only approach to an easy one in the house--that the
proposal was dropped, and he was left in peace for the rest of the
day.

In the evening Mrs. Woodford was sitting by the window, letting her
needlework drop as the light faded, and just beginning to doze, when
her repose was broken by a voice saying "Madam."

"Yes, Peregrine."

"Come near, I pray. Will you tell no one?"

"No; what is it?"

In so low a tone that she had to bend over him: "Do you know how
the Papists cross themselves?"

"Yes, I have seen the Queen's confessor and some of the ladies make
the sign."

"Dear lady, you have been ve