y human habitation was not to be thought of; neither did Mrs.
Merrill wish Ruth to go on toward home without some one with her.

"Gilbert, you must go home with Ruth, and I will drive on after
Winifred," she decided. "Mrs. Pernell will be sadly troubled when Fluff
comes running home and she has no news of her little girl. Go as quickly
as you can."

Gilbert agreed; but he felt a little defrauded as he and Ruth turned
toward home. He would have enjoyed going up that dark hillside road,
where it seemed to him some interesting adventure might befall a
traveler.

Mrs. Merrill, with the lantern fastened to the front of the cart, drove
rapidly up the hill, trying to pierce the dusky shadows of the roadside.
Now and then she called Winifred's name, and listened intently for some
response, but none came.

At last the light from the lantern showed the pony-carriage in the
shadow of the big oak tree, and in a moment Mrs. Merrill was on the
ground beside it. But Winifred was not to be seen. "Winifred!" she
called over and over, but there was no reply.

CHAPTER XIII

HOME AGAIN

Winifred awakened suddenly. For a moment she looked about with startled
eyes.

"Winifred! Winifred!"

"That is Mother calling," she exclaimed aloud, springing to her feet,
and resting one hand against the smooth trunk of the pine tree. For a
moment she was too surprised and sleepy to respond to the call; then she
called back, "Mother! I'm in the woods!" at the same time moving slowly
around to the other side of the big tree.

"Oh! There's a light! And there's the road! And there is Mother!" and
stumbling and running Winifred appeared in the road only a short
distance from the flickering light of the lantern.

"Mother! Mother! Did you come all alone?" called Winifred, as her mother
held her close as if, thought the little girl, "I had been away a long
time."

"I thought I was way in the deep woods, and I was close to the road all
the time. But Fluff is lost," she explained, as her mother led her
toward the cart.

"No, dear; Fluff passed us on our way home, and will probably be safe in
his stall long before we get back," replied Mrs. Merrill, and as they
drove through the darkness she told her little daughter of how troubled
she and Mrs. Pernell had been as the afternoon passed and Winifred and
Ruth failed to return; of Gilbert borrowing Ned's pony, of meeting Ruth,
"and I have been here an hour, calling and calling," she concluded.