Ann drove the Belcher cows home and ushered them into Samuel Wales’ barnyard with speed.  Then she went demurely into the house.  The table looked beautiful.  Ann was beginning to quake inwardly, though she still was hugging herself, so to speak, in secret enjoyment of her own mischief.  She had one hope—­that supper would be eaten before her master milked.  But the hope was vain.  When she saw Mr. Wales come in, glance her way, and then call his wife out, she knew at once what had happened, and begun to tremble—­she knew perfectly what Mr. Wales was saying out there.  It was this:  “That little limb has driven home all Neighbor Belcher’s cows instead of ours; what’s going to be done with her?”

She knew what the answer would be, too.  Mrs. Polly was a peremptory woman.

Back Ann had to go with the Belcher cows, fasten them safely in their pasture again, and drive her master’s home.  She was hustled off to bed, then, without any of that beautiful supper.  But she had just crept into her bed in the small unfinished room up stairs where she slept, and was lying there sobbing, when she heard a slow, fumbling step on the stairs.  Then the door opened, and Mrs. Deacon Thomas Wales, Samuel Wales’ mother, came in.  She was a good old lady, and had always taken a great fancy to her son’s bound girl; and Ann, on her part, minded her better than any one else.  She hid her face in the tow sheet, when she saw grandma.  The old lady had on a long black silk apron.  She held something concealed under it, when she came in.  Presently she displayed it.

“There—­child,” said she, “here’s a piece of sweet cake and a couple of simballs, that I managed to save out for you.  Jest set right up and eat ’em, and don’t ever be so dretful naughty again, or I don’t know what will become of you.”

This reproof, tempered with sweetness, had a salutary effect on Ann.  She sat up, and ate her sweet cake and simballs, and sobbed out her contrition to grandma, and there was a marked improvement in her conduct for some days.

Mrs. Polly was a born driver.  She worked hard herself, and she expected everybody about her to.  The tasks which Ann had set her did not seem as much out of proportion, then, as they would now.  Still, her mistress, even then, allowed her less time for play than was usual, though it was all done in good faith, and not from any intentional severity.  As time went on, she grew really quite fond of the child, and she was honestly desirous of doing her whole duty by her.  If she had had a daughter of her own, it is doubtful if her treatment of her would have been much different.

Still, Ann was too young to understand all this, and, sometimes, though she was strong and healthy, and not naturally averse to work, she would rebel, when her mistress set her stints so long, and kept her at work when other children were playing.

Once in a while she would confide in grandma, when Mrs. Polly sent her over there on an errand and she had felt unusually aggrieved because she had had to wind quills, or hetchel, instead of going berrying, or some like pleasant amusement.