She smiled kindly at the girl, murmured 'I will come again,' and went through the sleepers towards the door, pausing, however, to look at the peaceful face of the baby, as it lay on its mother's arm, covered with the old red cloak.
She returned to the house, and went to the clean, large dairy, where she took a cup of the last night's milk, already covered with rich cream, from a pan and went with it to the back kitchen, where was a fire, kept up all night by means of the hard Welsh coal, and heat-diffusing balls.
She warmed the milk, procured a piece of fine white bread, and once more returned to the barn.
She administered these remedies to her patient, who swallowed them with the same avidity and difficulty as she had done the broth.

She fancied she again heard the words, 'God bless you, my lady,' but they were so faint that she was not sure.
Again she threaded her way amongst the sleepers, and left the barn.

She went into her garden, and walked for a few moments amongst the flowers, as if for council.

The bees were beginning to hum about the hives, and the butterflies to flit amongst the flowers.

She stood and looked at the beautiful scene before her--the woods, hills, river, and above, the morning sun--and offered up a prayer and thanksgiving to the Giver of all good things.