Whatever might be the inclination of the girl, her mother gave her little chance to dream in the next few days.  Not merely was there much about house and garden to be brought into order, but Mrs. Meredith succeeded in bargaining their standing crop of grass in exchange for a milch cow, and to Janice was assigned both its milking and care, while the chickens likewise became her particular charge.  From stores in the attic the mother produced pieces of whole cloth, and Janice was set at work on dresses and underclothes to resupply their depleted wardrobes.  Not content with this, Mrs. Meredith drew from the same source unspun wool and unhatchelled flax, and the girl was put to spinning both into thread and yarn, that Peg might weave them into cloth, against the need of winter.  From five in the morning till eight at night there was occupation for all; and so tired was the maiden that she gladly enough heard her mother’s decree that their small supply of candles should not be used, but that they should go to bed with the sun.

They were thus already asleep by ten o’clock one August evening, when there came a gentle knocking on the back door, which, after several repetitions, ceased, but only to be resumed a moment later on the front one.  Neither summons receiving any attention, a succession of pebbles were thrown against Janice’s window, finally bringing the sleeper back to wakefulness.  Her first feeling, as she became conscious of the cause, was one of fear, and her instinct was to pay no attention to the outsider.  After one or two repetitions, however, of the disquieting taps, she stole to the window, and, keeping herself hidden, peeped out.  All she could see was a man standing close to a shrub, as if to take advantage of its concealment, who occasionally raised an arm and tossed a pebble against the panes.  Really alarmed, the girl was on the point of seeking her mother, when her eyes took in the fact that Clarion was standing beside the cause of her fright, and seeking, so far as he could, to win his attention.  Reassured, the girl raised the sash, and instantly her father’s voice broke upon her ears.

“Down with ye, Jan,” he said, “and let me get under cover.”

Both anxious and delighted, the girl ran downstairs and unbarred the door.

“I had begun to fear me that I had been misinformed and that ye and your mother were not hereabout,” the squire began; “so ’t is indeed a joy to find ye safe.”  And then, after Mrs. Meredith had been roused, he explained his presence.  “Though I could not get back to ye in Philadelphia, no worry I felt on your account, making sure that Lord Clowes would look to your safety.  An anxious week I had after the army reached New York, till I received Colonel Brereton’s letter telling me of your safety, though that only assured me as to the past, and I knew that any moment the rascally Whigs might take to persecuting ye again.”

“Nay, Lambert,” said Mrs. Meredith, “not a one has offered us the slightest annoyance.  On the contrary, some of thy tenants have tendered us food in payment of rent, though I own that they insist upon hard bargains.”