The chairs would pass for modern Mission furniture. A few had rockers, notably that in which the little girl sat, with Judy on her lap, and the cat almost covered her. Grandfather was in his accustomed place. There was a small table beside him on which were his old French Bible, a book of devotion, and a volume or two of poems, and a tall candlestick with two branches. Gran'mere was doing some white embroidery, a frock for the little girl's next summer's wear. Mrs. Bradin had been settling her daughter and now stood undecided as to her next duty. "Has father gone out again?" Barbe asked. "Yes, to the Fort--to see if he can't get one of the papers." "It's wonderful news!" and the invalid drew a long breath of delight. "But it isn't real peace yet." "Oh, no, I do believe it is the beginning, though," said her mother. "I wish the sun would shine. It ought to;" and Barbe gave a wan half smile. "But it isn't going to," announced Daffodil confidently. "And it _is_ going to rain." Grandfather laughed. "Why, Dilly?" "Because." The child colored. "Oh, you will see." There was a tap at the door and then it opened. Norah Carrick dropped the shawl she had thrown over her head. A still pretty, heartsome-looking woman, with a merry face bright with roses, laughing blue eyes, and dark hair. "It's good for sore eyes to see you up, Barbe. I hope we'll have some fine weather to brace up one. An'--an' 'twas good news you heard the morn." Then she gave a funny, rippling laugh. "But he'll be glad to have Bernard come back," Barbe exclaimed resentfully. "Ah, that he will! Ye mustna mind him child, if he's cranky for a bit. He's been that set about England winning the game that you'd take him for wan of the high dukes that sit in state and tell what shall be done. I've been for the country all along. It runs in my mind that Ireland owes the king a gredge. She's been a cross-grained stepmother, say your best. An' why couldn't she let us go on an' prosper! We'd been willin' enough to work for her part of the time. An' it's not such an easy thing to lave your own bit of a home and come over here in these wilds, an' hew down trees for your houses and clear land for the corn, an' fight Indians. So I'm wishin' the country to win. But Sandy's carryin' the black cat round on his back to-day, an' it makes me laugh, too. He's that smart when he gets a little riled up, and he's husked corn to-day as if he was keepin' time with Nickey Nick's fiddle." "What makes the black cat stay on his back?" asked Daffodil, stroking her own pussy softly. "Ah, that's just a say so, Dilly darlin', for a spell of gettin' out of temper when there's no need. But he made a good dinner. I had just the stew he liked, an' a Donegal puddin' that come down from my great-grandmother. An', Barbe, you begin to look like crawlin' about again an' not so washed out. The good news should make a warm streak all through you." "Oh, I'm much better. If it will come off nice an' warm----"