"Well, aunt, I must have the wool. I may be wanting it to-morrow."
"You'll toast me two thin bits of toast before you go," said the aunt snappishly.
Jane put off her cloak and proceeded to cut the slices of bread and toast them. But the fire was very low, and they took some considerable time to brown properly.
"Do you wish the toast buttered, aunt?"
"No. Cut it in strips. And now go and draw me my ale."
"It is early for supper, aunt."
"You do as you are bid, Jane. If I feel cold, I suppose I am at liberty to drink my ale a trifle earlier than usual, to warm me."
Jane drew the ale in a china mug that held exactly half-a-pint, and brought it in. It was Miss Hallet's evening allowance: one she never exceeded. Her supper frequently consisted of what she was about to take now: the strips of toast soaked in the ale, and eaten. It was much favoured by elderly people in those days, and was called Toast-and-ale.
Jane resumed her cloak, and was allowed to depart without farther hindrance. But during the detention, the dusk of the evening had become nearly dark. Perhaps Miss Hallet had intended this.
She ate a small portion of the toast very quickly, drank some of the ale, leaving the rest for her return, and had her own bonnet and dark shawl on in no time. Then, locking her house door for safety, she followed in the wake of Jane.