Mother,' said Sylvia, in despair, 'I'll make some clap-bread: that's a heavy job, and will while away t' afternoon.' 'Ay, do!' replied the mother.

'He'll like it fresh--he'll like it fresh.' Murmuring and talking to herself, she fell into a doze, from which Sylvia was careful not to disturb her.
The days were now getting long, although as cold as ever; and at Haytersbank Farm the light lingered, as there was no near horizon to bring on early darkness.

Sylvia had all ready for her mother's tea against she wakened; but she slept on and on, the peaceful sleep of a child, and Sylvia did not care to waken her.

Just after the sun had set, she saw Kester outside the window making signs to her to come out.

She stole out on tip-toe by the back-kitchen, the door of which was standing open.