she raised her arms toward the ceiling and her voice broke, "thank Heaven we ha' work," she finished brokenly, "to do this night!"
Sally ran over, to drop to her knees before the other. "Oh, ye be brave," she said, with a little sob, pressing the calloused hand to her cheek. "Ye be so brave, dear mistress!"
But a little frown broke upon Mistress Williams's pale, heroic face. It was as if she could not stand sympathy just then. "No time, now, for aught but work, Sally," she said briefly, snatching her hand away and leaving the kitchen hurriedly.
Sally, hurt to the quick, was stumbling to her feet when Zenas paused behind her. "Nay, can ye not see she can bear no more!" he whispered wisely. And the girl, glancing at him, nodded and went about her work.
And how they did work that night! For long hours was the fire kept roaring, with great steaming kettles of water, slung from the crane over it, constantly being emptied, constantly being refilled. Hour after hour. Mistress Williams and Sally washed and ironed and packed and then, long past midnight, Mistress Williams kindled a fire in the Dutch oven, declaring she could not let her menfolk go without providing them dainties for their journey.
Once Sally saw the poor woman fairly reel from fatigue and sorrow, and almost stupefied, herself,
