"How sound asleep I must have been not to hear you," said Winifred
happily, snuggling closer to her mother's side.

"After Fluff ran off I began to be frightened," she continued. "I
thought of catamounts and bears; and then I thought of my sampler."

"Your sampler?" repeated Mrs. Merrill, not understanding just what
Winifred meant.

"Yes, Mother dear! Don't you remember the words you traced on it? 'There
shall no evil befall thee. For he shall give his angels charge over
thee, to keep thee in all thy ways,'" repeated the little girl. "I
kept saying it over and over and I was not afraid."

For a moment Mrs. Merrill did not reply. She stooped and kissed her
little daughter, and then said: "That was right, dear child."

It was nearly midnight when Mrs. Merrill and Winifred reached home, and
Gilbert lifted a very sleepy little girl from the pony-cart. "Mrs.
Pernell and Ruth are here," he said, "and she has some hot broth ready."

Gilbert looked after Ned's pony before following his mother and sister
into the house. Mrs. Pernell had already prepared his supper and he had
eaten it with Ruth on reaching home after their long walk; but that
seemed a long time ago, and he was quite ready to sit down at the
candle-lit table and join the others. The hot broth, toast and damson
preserves were very welcome to Winifred and her mother. The little group
around the table were all too tired to talk much, but they smiled
happily at one another, rejoicing that they were all safe and at home.

It was decided that Mrs. Pernell and Ruth should stay the remainder of
the night with the Merrill's.

"Hero will take care of our house," Ruth said confidently, as she and
her mother entered the pleasant chamber where they were to sleep.

"Mother, you never scold me, do you?" she said, just as Mrs. Pernell
extinguished the candle, and smiled happily to herself at her mother's
little laugh.

"Why, Ruthie dear! I should hope not. You know 'scold' is an ugly word.
There is nothing about it that is fair. It means to 'find fault,' which
is never quite fair; do you think it is?" and Ruth agreed that "scold"
had an ugly sound.

"We didn't mean to stay away and to worry you," said Ruth.

"Of course you didn't, dear child. Go to sleep," replied her mother, who
was thinking to herself that no other little girl was as dear and good
as her own little daughter. And, strange as it may seem, Mrs. Merrill
was thinking that very same thing about Winifr