urned dark and warm.

"I think not, my dear."

"And nothing for the wounded--no linen, no wine, no bedding?"

"I think not. I cannot tell what Mrs. Gill did; but it seemed impossible
to me, at the moment, to venture to dispose of your property by sending
supplies to soldiers. Provisions for a company of soldiers sounds
formidable. How many there are I did not ask; but I could not think of
allowing them to pillage the house, as it were. I intended to do what
was right, yet I did not see the case quite clearly, I own."

"It lies in a nutshell, notwithstanding. These soldiers have risked
their lives in defence of my property: I suppose they have a right to my
gratitude. The wounded are our fellow-creatures: I suppose we should aid
them.--Mrs. Gill!"

She turned, and called in a voice more clear than soft. It rang through
the thick oak of the hall and kitchen doors more effectually than a
bell's summons. Mrs. Gill, who was deep in bread-making, came with hands
and apron in culinary case, not having dared to stop to rub the dough
from the one or to shake the flour from the other. Her mistress had
never called a servant in that voice save once before, and that was when
she had seen from the window Tartar in full tug with two carriers' dogs,
each of them a match for him in size, if not in courage, and their
masters standing by, encouraging their animals, while hers was
unbefriended. Then indeed she had summoned John as if the Day of
Judgment were at hand. Nor had she waited for the said John's coming,
but had walked out into the lane bonnetless, and after informing the
carriers that she held them far less of men than the three brutes
whirling and worrying in the dust before them, had put her hands round
the thick neck of the largest of the curs, and given her whole strength
to the essay of choking it from Tartar's torn and bleeding eye, just
above and below which organ the vengeful fangs were inserted. Five or
six men were presently on the spot to help her, but she never thanked
one of them. "They might have come before if their will had been good,"
she said. She had not a word for anybody during the rest of the day, but
sat near the hall fire till evening watching and tending Tartar, who lay
all gory, stiff, and swelled on a mat at her feet. She wept furtively
over him sometimes, and murmured the softest words of pity and
endearment, in tones whose music the old, scarred, canine warrior
acknowledged by licking her hand o