Through an opposite door she could see another large kitchen lighted by the blaze of a wood fire, in which servants were apparently busy, and the voices of men and women could be heard. She noticed as she followed her cousin to the screen that the window nearest the entrance door was uncovered, and that the floor of the old kitchen appeared to be formed of rough stones which she afterwards found was a mixture of lime and sand. But for the moonlight, which passed through the uncovered window and glittered like silver on the pewter plates, this part of the farm kitchen would have had a very desolate aspect. Once, however, inside the screen, how changed everything appeared! The portion enclosed was as large as many a London parlour, and entirely covered with a thick carpet. On the wide, open hearth lay a pile of coals and wooden logs, that sent a blaze and a sparkle up the chimney, while the glowing heat rendered the stone on which the carpet in front of the fire lay a far warmer resting-place for a cold foot than the thickest hearth-rug ever invented. On a large round table in the centre, covered with a snowy cloth, were arranged china teacups of curious shape and rare value, the silver teapot, cream-jug, and sugar-dish of most antique patterns, in which the firelight gleamed and flickered, adding brightness to the good fare with which the table was loaded. Above the high mantelpiece hung various useful kitchen articles composed of tin, copper, and brass, all so carefully and brightly polished that the light from a lamp and the reflected blaze of the fire flashed from their surfaces with a glitter that illuminated the enclosed portion of the kitchen, making the outer part darker by contrast. In the most protected corner of this pleasant enclosure, and near the glowing fire, sat old Mr. Armstrong with his son by his side, cheering the old man by his pleasant conversation. Mary, as she entered, thought she had never seen her father to so much advantage. The tender, deferential manner of the son to the aged father was a new phase in his character which charmed his youthful daughter. Mrs. John Armstrong took her seat at the tea-table, while her husband rose with a native politeness to place a chair for Mary, which made her forget that his dress was the homely garb of a farmer. "Give up your seat to your daughter, Edward, and let Mary sit by me." The change was quickly made, and then the old gentleman said-- "Ah, my dear, I can see you more plainly now in the light of the lamp; there is a look of the little child I remember so well, although you are grown so tall and womanly." "Do you not think Mary is like her mother, uncle?" said cousin Sarah; "and yet she has a look sometimes that reminds me of Edward." "Never mind whom she resembles," said the old man; "if my granddaughter is, as I hear from her father, a dutiful and affectionate daughter, that is of far more value than her personal appearance."