ue, she would not fail. She knew where to get the milk,
and her Ladyship should have the butter, full weight and the very
best, by the following evening, which would leave two full days before
Christmas.

'That is settled then, for I have never known you to fail me,' said My
Lady, as the coach drove away, leaving Moll curtseying behind her, and
vowing again that 'let come what would come,' she would not fail.

It was small wonder, therefore, after this unaccustomed graciousness,
that she was shorter-tempered than ever with her unfortunate guests
that evening. Was not their presence hindering her from getting on
with her task? At length she left the lasses to serve the ale, which,
truth to tell, they were nothing loath to do, while Moll herself, in
her wooden shoes and with her skirts tucked up all round her,
clattered in and out of the dairy where already a goodly row of large
basins stood full to the brim with rich yellow milk on which, even
now, the cream was fast rising.

Thirty pounds of butter could never all be made in one day; she must
begin her task overnight. True, little Jan was whining to go to bed as
he tried vainly to keep awake on his small hard stool by the fire. The
brat must wait; she could not attend to him now. He could sleep well
enough leaning against the bricks of the chimney-corner. Or, no! the
butter-making would take a long time, and Moll was never a methodical
woman. Jan should lie down, just as he was, and have a nap in the
kitchen until she was ready to attend to him. Roughly, but not
unkindly, she pulled him off the stool and laid him down on a rug in a
dark corner of the kitchen and told him to be off to sleep as fast as
he could, stooping to cover him with an old coat of her husband's
that was hanging on the door, as she spoke. Nothing loath, Jan shut
his sleepy eyes, and, burying his little nose in the folds of the old
coat, he went happily off into dreamland, soothed by the
well-remembered out-door smell that always clung around his father's
belongings.

It did not take Moll long to fill the churn and to set it in its
place. Just as she was busy shutting down the lid, there came a knock
at the door. 'Plague take you, Stranger,' she grumbled, as she opened
it, and a gust of snow and wind blew in upon her and the assembled
guests in the tavern kitchen. 'You bring in more of the storm than you
are likely to pay for your ale.'

'My desire is not for ale,' said the Stranger, speaking sl