Winifred awakened suddenly. For a moment she looked about with startled eyes.

"Winifred! Winifred!"

"That is Mother calling," she exclaimed aloud, springing to her feet, and resting one hand against the smooth trunk of the pine tree. For a moment she was too surprised and sleepy to respond to the call; then she called back, "Mother! I'm in the woods!" at the same time moving slowly around to the other side of the big tree.

"Oh! There's a light! And there's the road! And there is Mother!" and stumbling and running Winifred appeared in the road only a short distance from the flickering light of the lantern.

"Mother! Mother! Did you come all alone?" called Winifred, as her mother held her close as if, thought the little girl, "I had been away a long time."

"I thought I was way in the deep woods, and I was close to the road all the time. But Fluff is lost," she explained, as her mother led her toward the cart.

"No, dear; Fluff passed us on our way home, and will probably be safe in his stall long before we get back," replied Mrs. Merrill, and as they drove through the darkness she told her little daughter of how troubled she and Mrs. Pennell had been as the afternoon passed and Winifred and Ruth failed to return; of Gilbert borrowing Ned's pony, of meeting Ruth, "and I have been here an hour, calling and calling," she concluded.

"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. Pennell 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. Pennell 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. Pennell and Ruth should stay the remainder of the night with the Merrills.

"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. Pennell 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 Winifred.

How much there was for the two little friends to talk about the next day! Gilbert and Fluff had started off at an early hour to bring home the pony-cart, and early in the afternoon Betty Hastings came to see Ruth. She knew nothing about the adventure of the day before, and listened eagerly to Ruth and Winifred as they told of the lonely road, the coming of darkness, and of the deer and fawn that Ruth had seen.

The two younger girls looked at Betty admiringly as they all sat together in Mrs. Pennell's front room. Betty's smooth brown curls under her pretty white straw hat, her shining brown eyes and pleasant smile, and the pretty dress of blue and white plaid, made her well worth their approving glances. Both Ruth and Winifred wondered to themselves why it was that Betty's hands were always clean, her hair smooth, and her dress always neat and in order. They decided, as they had often done before, that it was because Betty was so nearly grown up, nearly thirteen. They were quite sure that being tidy and careful was a gift that came with years.

Ruth always liked to have Betty come to see her.

"It's just like really being grown up when Betty comes," she had explained to her mother, "because we always sit in the front room, and never play dolls." So this afternoon when Mrs. Pennell brought in a tray with the little silver pitcher and sugar bowl, the lustre teapot, and the treasured Canton cups and saucers, together with a plate of round frosted cakes, and Ruth had the pleasure of giving Betty and Winifred a cup of "real tea" she felt herself the most fortunate little girl in Philadelphia.

"'Tis not a taxed tea," Mrs. Pennell declared smilingly; for Americans had refused to receive any tea on which the Government of Great Britain demanded an unlawful tax.

"I came to ask you and Winifred to a May party," said Betty, when she was ready to start for home. "My mother says I may invite a dozen girls to go Maying to some pleasant place on the river, where we can gather flowers, put up a May-pole, and have a picnic lunch. Mother will get some one to drive us all out in a big wagon."

Both Ruth and Winifred were delighted at the invitation, and thanked Betty. May-day was nearly two weeks distant, but they were glad to have so pleasant an invitation. And the front door had hardly closed behind their visitor when Ruth exclaimed:

"We must begin on that table right away, Winifred, so that it will surely be finished by May-day. I have just remembered that May first is Betty's birthday! Her mother always has a party for her."

"So it is!" responded Winifred, as she followed Ruth toward the shed.

There was a piece of chalk in the drawer of the work-bench, and Ruth, laying the square of smooth dark wood on the top of a barrel, began to mark a large heart, while Winifred stood beside her watching admiringly.

"There!" Ruth exclaimed, as her rather uneven chalk line came to an end. "I guess that is enough to go by. We can make the edges smooth with some of the tools."

Winifred agreed promptly. "I'll make the legs," she volunteered.

"Be sure and have them all the same length," advised Ruth. "You can take this chalk and mark the places where to saw;" and in a few moments Winifred with a small sharp saw was endeavoring to cut through the strips of hard wood selected for table legs, while Ruth with a sharp knife tried in vain to make some impression on the square of mahogany. Snap! went the slender knife-blade!

"Oh, Winifred! quick! I've cut off my thumb!" screamed Ruth, as she raced past the horrified Winifred and ran into the kitchen calling: "Mother! Mother!"

In a moment her mother was beside her; the injured thumb was bathed and bandaged, and Ruth was explaining, with Winifred's help, how the accident occurred. It was really a deep cut, and it was no wonder that the little girl had been frightened.

Mrs. Pennell went to the shed with the little girls, and looked with troubled eyes at the cherished pieces of polished wood, and the fine tools scattered about the floor.

"We must put all these tools carefully back in the chest, and the wood on the shelf just as your father left it. Winifred will help me, for you must not use your hand, Ruth," she said.

"But, Mother, we want to make a heart-shaped table for a birthday present for Betty," Ruth explained. "Mayn't we use Father's tools?"

"No, my dear. It would have been a very serious thing if you had spoiled any of his saws or planes. And those strips and squares of wood are valuable. Besides that you and Winifred are not accustomed to the use of tools; and you might really have cut off your thumb instead of only cutting it," said Mrs. Pennell. "I am to blame that I did not tell you how much your dear father valued these tools and wood."

"Oh, Mother! You are never to blame. I ought to have asked you," Ruth declared.

"Well, my dear, I really think it would have been wiser. But now we must think of something else as a present for Betty. With that hurt thumb, Ruth, I am afraid you cannot make her anything," responded her mother, leading the way to the seat under the maple tree.

"Now, let us all try and think of something that Betty would like for a birthday gift," she continued, as they all sat down. Hero came bounding across the yard, and took his usual place at Ruth's feet.

"I know! I know exactly what Betty would like," declared Ruth, "and I am sure I could help make it. Candy! She loves candy. Can I not use some of your sugar, Mother, to make some heart-shaped sweets?" For Ruth had some tiny heart-shaped molds of tin, into which hot candy mixture could be turned, and that when cool came out in perfect shapes.

"That will be better than a table," said Winifred eagerly, "and I know my mother will give me some sugar for such a purpose. And, Ruth! we can make a heart-shaped box of paper to put it in."

Mrs. Pennell listened smilingly as the two little girls made their plan for their friend's birthday gift. She promised to give them a portion of her scanty store of sugar.

"You will not need to make it for a week to come; and Ruth's thumb will be well by that time. You may have the kitchen to yourselves on the last day of April," she said.

Ruth quite forgot the ugly cut in her excitement over the proposed candy-making.

"I am glad May is only ten days away," she said. "Just think of all that is going to happen next month! Betty's birthday picnic, and my visit to Aunt Deborah! And perhaps even more than that. Perhaps I shall see Lafayette! And perhaps the English will leave Philadelphia."

Both her mother and Winifred laughed at Ruth's eager prophecy.