dmitted, laughing, "and I hope the fatted
calf is on the crane."

"Dar's a roas' pig fur ter-morrow, sho's you bo'n," returned Aunt Rhody.
"En I'se gwine to stuff 'im full." Then she hurried away to her fire, and
Dan threw himself down upon the rug at the Major's feet.

"Yes, we may trust Betty for the sunshine," repeated the Major, as if
striving to recall his wandering thoughts. "She's my overseer now, you
know, and she actually looks after both places in less time than poor
Harris took to worry along with one. Why, there's not a better farmer in
the county."

"Oh, Major, don't," begged the girl, laughing and blushing beneath Dan's
eyes. "You mustn't believe him, Dan, he wears rose-coloured glasses when he
looks at me."

"Well, my sight is dim enough for everything else, my dear," confessed the
old man sadly. "That's why I have the lamps lighted before the sun goes
down--eh, Molly?"

Mrs. Lightfoot unwrapped her knitting and the ivory kneedles clicked in the
firelight.

"I like to keep the shadows away myself," she responded. "The twilight used
to be my favourite hour, but I dread it now, and so does Mr. Lightfoot."

"Well, the war's given us that in common," chuckled the Major, stretching
out his feet. "If I remember rightly you once complained that our tastes
were never alike, Molly." Then he glanced round with hospitable eyes. "Draw
up, my boy, draw up to the fire and tell your story," he added invitingly.
"By the time Champe comes home we'll have rich treats in store for the
summer evenings."

Betty was looking at him as he bent over the thin flames, and Dan saw her
warm gaze cloud suddenly with tears. He put out his hand and touched hers
as it lay on the Major's chair, and when she turned to him she was smiling
brightly.

"Here's Cupid with our supper," she said, going to the table, "and dear
Aunt Rhody has actually gotten out her brandied peaches that she kept
behind her 'jists.' If you ever doubted your welcome, Dan, this must banish
it forever." Then as they gathered about the fruits of Aunt Rhody's
labours, she talked on rapidly in her cheerful voice. "The silver has just
been drawn up from the bottom of the well," she laughed, "so you mustn't
wonder if it looks a little tarnished. There wasn't a piece missing, which
is something to be thankful for already, and the port--how many bottles of
port did you dig up from the asparagus bed, Uncle Cupid?"

"I'se done hoed up 'mos' a dozen," answered Cupid