her. They go up
quicker."

God was requested by Tim to heap money upon Mrs. Harries, and to give
Winnie the wisdom, understanding, and obedience which enable one to
serve faithfully those who sit in the first pews in the chapel.

Now Winnie found favor in the sight of her mistress, whose personal
maid she was made and whose habits she copied. She painted her cheeks
and dyed her hair and eyebrows and eyelashes; and she frequented
Thornton Vale English Congregational Chapel, where now worshiped Enoch
and his wife. Some of the men who came to Windsor ogled her impudently,
but she did not give herself to any man. These ogles Mrs. Harries
interpreted truthfully and she whipped up her jealous rage.

"You're too fast," she chided Winnie. "Look at your blouse. You might be
undressed. You are a shame to your sex. One would say you are a
Piccadilly street-walker and they wouldn't be far wrong. I won't have
you making faces at my visitors. Understand that."

Winnie said: "I don't."

"You must change, miss," Mrs. Harries went on. "Or you can pack your box
and go on the streets. Must not think because you are Welsh you can do
as you like here."

On a sudden Winnie spoke and charged her mistress with a want of virtue.

"Is that the kind of miss you are!" Mrs. Harries shouted. "Where did you
get those shoes from?"

"You yourself gave them to me."

"You thief! You know I didn't. They are far too small for your big feet.
Come along--let's see what you've got upstairs."

That hour Mrs. Harries summoned a policeman, and in due time Winnie was
put in prison.

Tim and Martha did not speak to any one of this that had been done to
their daughter.

"Punished must a thief be," said Tim. "Bad is the wench."

"Bad is our little daughter," answered Martha.

Sabbath morning came and she wept.

"Showing your lament you are, old fool," cried Tim.

"For sure, no. But the mother am I."

Tim said: "My inside shivers oddly. Girl fach too young to be in jail."

A fire was set in the preacher's parlor and the doors of the Tabernacle
were opened. Tim, the Bible in his hands, stepped up to the pulpit, his
eyes closed in prayer, and as he passed up he stumbled.

Eylwin Jones heard the noise of his fall and ran into the chapel.

"What's the matter?" he cried. "Comic you look on your stomach. Great
one am I for to see jokes."

"An old rod did catch my toe," Tim explained.

Eylwin changed the cast of his countenance. "Awful you are,"