bounteous meal, which further enhanced the air of geniality that
pervaded the dwelling.

In this latter apartment were two persons: one, a serene faced woman
of middle age who was busily engaged at the kneading board; the other,
a slender maiden well covered by a huge apron and with sleeves rolled
back, stood before a deal table reducing loaf sugar to usable shape.
They were Mistress David Owen and her daughter Peggy.

"How it blows!" exclaimed the girl, looking up from her task as a
sudden gust of wind flung the outside door wide, and sent the snow
scurrying across the sanded floor of the kitchen. "What shall be done
anent that door, mother?"

"Tell Sukey to bring a large stick of wood and put against it,"
returned the lady. "Then look to the oven, Peggy. 'Tis hard to get a
clear fire with so much wind."

"I do believe that everything is going to be done to a turn in spite
of it," remarked Peggy, a little frown of anxiety which had puckered
her brow disappearing as she glanced into the great oven.

"Then as soon as thou hast set the table the dinner will be ready to
take up. I make no doubt but that thy friends are hungry. And what a
time they seem to be having," Mrs. Owen added as a merry peal of
laughter came from the sitting-room.

"Are they not?" Peggy smiled in sympathy. "I am so glad they came
yesterday. I fear me that they could not have reached here to-day in
this dreadful storm. 'Tis too bad to have such weather now when 'tis
Robert's first home leave in three years."

"Methinks that 'twould better come when one is on a furlough than in
camp," remarked her mother gravely. "It must be terrible for the
soldiers who lack so much to keep them comfortable."

"True," assented the girl soberly. "Would that the war were at an end,
and the peace we long for had come in very truth."

"And so do we all, my daughter. 'Tis weary waiting, but we must of
necessity possess ourselves with patience. But there! let not the
thought of it sadden thee to-day. 'Tis long since thou hast had thy
friends together. Enjoy the present, for we know not what the morrow
may bring. And now----"

"Set the table," added Peggy with a laugh, as she rolled down her
sleeves. "And don't thee dally too long talking with thy friends,
Peggy. Thee didn't add that, mother."

"As thee knows thy weakness it might be well to bear it in mind,"
commented her mother with a smile.

The kitchen was the principal apartment of a long low building
a