Although Sally had not slept until late the night of the ball, yet quite early she awoke the next morning, and, gathering the shawl closely about her, she began going over the fine sights and sounds, that had left a charm in her mind like unto a Fairy dream.
The longing in the maid's young heart for better things than those she had, fairly cried out within her, as she thought of the appearance and the graces of those high-born dames.
"I should have a better home," she said, glancing around her miserable room. "There must be ways in which I can raise myself. I am getting of an age to raise myself could I but see how to do it, yet I would wish to do nothing wrong."
"There can be no wrong in wishing to better your condition," said her Fairy; "you are no slave."
"Then I will watch for a chance," said Maid Sally.
"Do," said her Fairy.
In those days, Mistress Brace grumbled and scolded because she dared not buy tea. There was still a tax on it, and loyal colonists denied themselves tea sooner than pay the unjust tax.
But Mistress Brace had no great love of country, nor did she care anything about the matters that were stirring the people way down into their hearts and souls.
And so, after a time, she had grown tired and vexed at having to go without her tea. The only reason she had gone without it at all, was because the hired men—these were farmers who were hired by a planter—had said that it was known all over the place when any one bought an ounce of "the taxed stuff," and that whoever got it was set down as being a "Tory," which meant a person who favored England and the king rather than one's own country.
But there came a day not long after the ball, when Mistress Brace made up her mind that she would do without tea no longer. The hired men had put up with herb—they called it "yarb"—tea, made from herbs and mints, and had drunk it without complaint.