on
became Lady Wentworth of the Hall.

Thus the saucy boast, which the little gypsy had uttered in jest seven
years before, came true, and when Lady Wentworth drove in her chariot
through the main street of Portsmouth none dropped a lower curtsey than
the tavern-keeper's wife. The Earl of Halifax smiled serenely but said
nothing.

ELIZABETH

Elizabeth Haddon, the gentle Quaker maiden, sat one winter evening in
her farm-house kitchen, which served both for kitchen and parlor, and
talked to Hannah the housemaid. "How short the days are," she said, "and
how quickly night overtakes us. In the old country there is a long
twilight, but here in the forest is hardly a moment between daylight and
lamplight. Yet how grand winter is with its spotless mantle of snow."

"Oh, yes, winter is beautiful enough," replied Hannah, "and if only we
could walk with our feet on the ceiling like flies, I should not
complain. But this great river, the Delaware, is not crowded with tall
sailing vessels like the Thames. Here we see nothing but pine-trees
already flecked with snow. There is snow in the air and to-morrow all
the roads will be blocked. I pity Joseph, who will have to break through
the snow-drifts with his sled and oxen, and how in all the world shall
we get to Meeting on First Day (Sunday)?"

Elizabeth gently reproved her talkative servant for grumbling, then rose
and put her sewing away. Meanwhile, Hannah fastened the shutters, spread
the cloth, and lighted the lamp. Then she made the tea and placed on the
table a brown loaf and butter fresh from the dairy. As they partook of
their simple meal, Elizabeth said: "Joseph is a long time on his errand.
I sent him to the village with a hamper of food and clothing for the
poor. He is a good lad, always ready and willing."

Hannah smiled with pleasure at her mistress's praise of her fellow
servant, and Elizabeth continued: "This house is a long way from the
village, and we should be lonely if it were not for friends passing by
who sometimes stay the night here."

Hannah, who resembled John Gilpin's famous wife in that she had "a
frugal mind," did not altogether approve of what her generous mistress
said.

"Many people do indeed pay us a visit," she remarked, "and they treat
this house just as if it were an inn, coming and going exactly as they
please."

"All I have is the Lord's, not mine," replied Elizabeth gently. "I am
only left here in trust to distribute His gifts a