else in the cottage, as he was a widower, and had no family.

After a considerable time, when Mehetabel had had time to recruit
her strength, he reappeared. The short winter day was already
closing in. The cold black vapors rose over the sky, obscuring the
little light, as though grudging the earth its brief period of
illumination.

"I thought I'd best come, you know," said the man, "just to tell
you that I'm sorry, but I can't receive you here for the night.
I'm a widower, and folk might talk. Why are you from home?"

"I ran away. I cannot return to the Punch-Bowl."

"Well, now. That's curious!" said the gardener. "Time out of mind
I've had it in my head to run away when my old woman was rampageous.
I've knowed a man who actually did run to Americay becos his wife
laid on him so. But I never, in my experience, heard of a woman
runnin' away from her husband, that is to say--alone. You ain't
got no one with you, now?"

"Yes, my baby."

"I don't mean that. Well, it is coorious, a woman runnin' away
with her baby. I'm terrible sorry, but I can't take you in above
another half-hour. Where are you thinking of goyne to?"

"I know of no where and no one."

"Why not try Missus Chivers at Thursley. You was at her school, I
suppose?"

"Yes, I was there."

"Try her, and all will come right in the end."

Mehetabel rose; her child was now asleep.

"Look here," said the gardener. "Here's a nice plaid shawl, as
belonged to my missus, and a wun'erful old bonnet of hers--as the
cat has had kittens in since she went to her rest--and left me to
mine. You are heartily welcome. I can't let you turn out in the
cold with nothing on your head nor over your shoulders."

Mehetabel gladly accepted the articles of clothing offered her.
She had already eaten of what the man had placed on the table for
her, when he left the house. She could not burden him longer with
her presence, as he was obviously nervous about his character,
lest it should suffer should he harbor her. Thanking him, she
departed, and walked back to Thursley through the gathering gloom.

Betty Chivers kept a dame's school, in which she had instructed
the children of Thursley in the alphabet, simple summing, and in
the knowledge and fear of God. With the march of the times we have
abolished dames schools, and cut away thereby a means of livelihood
from many a worthy woman; but what is worse, have driven the little
ones into board schools, that are godless, where