Although Sally had not slept until late the night of the ball, yet quite early she awoke the next morning, and, gathering the shawl closely about her, she began going over the fine sights and sounds, that had left a charm in her mind like unto a Fairy dream.

The longing in the maid's young heart for better things than those she had, fairly cried out within her, as she thought of the appearance and the graces of those high-born dames.

"I should have a better home," she said, glancing around her miserable room. "There must be ways in which I can raise myself. I am getting of an age to raise myself could I but see how to do it, yet I would wish to do nothing wrong.""There can be no wrong in wishing to better your condition," said her Fairy; "you are no slave."

"Then I will watch for a chance," said Maid Sally.

"Do," said her Fairy.

In those days, Mistress Brace grumbled and scolded because she dared not buy tea. There was still a tax on it, and loyal colonists denied themselves tea sooner than pay the unjust tax.

But Mistress Brace had no great love of country, nor did she care anything about the matters that were stirring the people way down into their hearts and souls.

And so, after a time, she had grown tired and vexed at having to go without her tea. The only reason she had gone without it at all, was because the hired men—these were farmers who were hired by a planter—had said that it was known all over the place when any one bought an ounce of "the taxed stuff," and that whoever got it was set down as being a "Tory," which meant a person who favored England and the king rather than one's own country.

But there came a day not long after the ball, when Mistress Brace made up her mind that she would do without tea no longer. The hired men had put up with herb—they called it "yarb"—tea, made from herbs and mints, and had drunk it without complaint.

But the mistress thought they need know nothing about it if she bought a package for her own use. Goodman Chatfield, who sold dry-goods and haberdashery, or small wares, on one side of his store, and groceries on the other, would sell no tea at all; he was a true patriot, and "the taxed stuff" could not be found at his store.

But the "apothecary man" kept a little "for weak and sickly folk," and now Mistress Brace handed Sally some money as she said:

"Here's two and thri-pence, and you are to go to Doctor Hancocke's store and buy half a pound of tea.""I can't buy tea," said Sally, drawing back her hand and not touching the money.

"You do as I tell you!" cried Mistress Brace, with fierceness in her tones. "If Doctor Hancocke says aught about it, tell him I am not well and must have a good sup of tea to hearten me."

"But you are well," replied Maid Sally, "and it would not be right, either that I should tell a lie or that I should buy tea with the king's tax upon it."

Mistress Brace raised her hand as if to strike the young maiden who stood straight and quiet before her. But she did not strike her, she only exclaimed again:

"Take the money and do as you are bid!"

"I can't buy tea" said Maid Sally.

"Then begone out of my sight and out of my house, and see that you come not back!" cried the angry mistress. "Highty, tighty! but a great time of day it is when beggars turn about and say 'I can't,' to those who have kept and fed them. Begone, I say, you malapert!"Sally turned away without a word, but when nearly through the doorway, she looked back and said:

"I am not a beggar. I am an American girl, and mean to act like one."

Now there is always something about the words of one who gets not in a rage, but answers coolly one who is in one, that cools down the wrathful person and sets him or her to thinking. And Mistress Brace was struck with fear. What had she dared to say? And what meant Sally to do?

But her temper was too high to put down all at once, so she replied:

"Very sure that you are an American, are you?"

Then, as if it came into her mind that she had better not have said that, and as she also already wished she had not called the maid a beggar, bidding her go away and stay, she began, with a sour kind of laugh:

"Of course, I know nought of you before you were a baby wench of four years or so, and if you are so silly set against getting the tea—"

But Sally had darted to her tiny room. She would wait to hear no more. And thankful she was that Goodman Kellar came the next moment with eggs and butter for Mistress Cory Ann to chaffer or bargain about.

Mistress Brace had never been soft of speech, although she could put on the manners of a well-spoken dame, but she had of late grown more and more rough and coarse, ordering Sally about at times in so unmannerly a way that the maid had more than once turned it over in her mind, wondering if she had any right so to order her.

And then, in truth, Sally was noticing such things more after hearing Mistress Maria Kent's nice and gentle speech than she had in the past. And now she hastened to get away if possible before Mistress Brace and Goodman Kellar should be done parleying. All her young spirit flamed up when the mistress called her a beggar, and although something fine in her nature kept her quiet at the words, they were not to be passed over.

She dressed herself with care, putting on a brown and scarlet linsey-woolsey gown but just made, and bought nearly all with her own money. Then she slipped out at the front door. It was her day to recite to Parson Kendall, and although she scarcely dared think it out, there was a resolve forming under the warm tints of her ruddy hair.

But here was her Fairy with something to say.

"What are you going to do, Maid Sally?"

"I know not, good Fairy, but I mean not to sleep to-night at Mistress Cory Ann's."

"Hast any other home?"

"No, good Fairy, but mayhap I will find one."

"Have you any fixed idea about it?"

"N-o; I have only in my mind that of which I cannot yet speak."

"Very well, then be brave and do not falter. You have long felt ill at ease with the Tory woman; tell not too much, but speak the truth boldly."

"I mean to," said Maid Sally.

After the French lesson was over, Sally lingered in the parson's library.

"I gave thee the next reading, did I not?" asked Parson Kendall.

"Yes, I know about the lesson, sir," replied Sally, "but I know not where I had better go. I have no home."

"No home?" repeated the parson, "how is that? Hath the woman Mistress Brace cast thee out?"

Sally turned pale, so great was her fright and her desire to cry. But a single word from her Fairy helped her:

"Courage!"

"I refused to buy tea at the apothecary man's," she said, "and Mistress Brace called me a beggar, and bade me go and not return. I cannot be called a beggar, nor can I go back, when I have been told to stay away."

Parson Kendall toyed with his watch-fob, looked at the braided mat on which he stood, and seemed studying the pattern of the border. After what seemed a long time to Sally, he said:

"Sit thee down for a moment, poor maid. I would speak with Goodwife Kendall for a space. Be not timorous, all may yet be well with thee."

Sally sank into a chair as the parson disappeared.

"I've done it!" she said to her Fairy.

"Yes, and without many words," answered her Fairy. "That is always the best way to do that to which one has made up the mind."

Then Sally fell a-thinking. But so quickly beat her heart that she could scarcely sit still. And it beat all the faster when the door opened and Goodwife Kendall, in a rustling black silk, with soft muslin collar and cuffs, and a lace cap upon her head, stood before her.

"I hear you have not so good a home, little maid," she said, in a fine, low voice, "as would beseem thee, and the minister has no mind to send thee back to it. So here is a plan. My two servants are faithful at their tasks, but there is much needlework that is needful to be done. My two sisters are to tarry with me for the present, and much visiting must be enjoyed.

"There are certain duties to be attended to in the minister's family, and in his library, which it is not befitting that servants should be trusted with. Would it suit thee to be my helper for a time?"

"Oh, indeed, and indeed," cried Sally, stopping to choke for an instant, "I will so gladly and most faithfully do anything you may ask; and I shall need nothing at present, I have clothes—"

"Tut, tut, child!" said Goodwife Kendall, with a smile. "No one should work well to receive nothing in return, and I shall give thee two and sixpence a week, both to teach thee how to use a little money wisely, and also to pay for what I know thou wilt justly earn."

And seeing that Sally was at the point of bursting out crying, she added, while turning toward the door:

"Come, now, Parson Kendall will send to Mistress Brace for such clothes as you have bought for yourself, leaving all for which she has paid. It will please me to clothe thee with what may be needful from time to time. But there are dried berries to be picked over and put in soak before being stewed for supper. Come and let me show thee how to prepare them."