"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked
Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare
that the woman fixed upon her.

"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?"

"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that--that"--

"Never mind. Give me a glass of water."

Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained
silent for a moment.

"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an
end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her
husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I
can go to the farmer's house near by."

"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well
enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the
rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly
cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully
bandaged the wounded part.

"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?"

"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of
me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so
ugly."