And marveling greatly at this change in the once indolent Harriet, Mrs. Owen took the girl forthwith under her wing, and spent long hours instructing her in the mysteries of housekeeping. But the time was not all devoted to labor. There were lighter hours in which the maidens took daily rides. There was also much dining about among the officers, their families, and the neighboring gentry of the town and neighborhood. As the weather became warmer picnics followed in the near-by woods, so that there was no lack of diversion. In these pastimes Clifford was an almost constant attendant. Mr. and Mrs. Owen had pressed him to become an inmate of their home, which, being on parole, he was at liberty to do, and he had accepted. The young people made a lively household, and it seemed to Peggy that it was the happiest time that she had enjoyed since the long, grim, weary years of fighting had begun. So the days sped pleasantly and May passed, and June with all its riotousness of roses was upon them. One warm June morning the family gathered in the pleasant, low-ceiled dining-room for breakfast. Harriet, attired in a wash dress well covered by a vast apron, flushed and rosy, stood at the head of the table. "I have cooked every bit of the breakfast myself," she declared proudly. "Cousin David, if you and Clifford don't do justice to it I shall take it as a personal affront." "No wonder the breakfast is an hour late," murmured Clifford to Peggy as they sat down. "I do think she might have invited Major Dale, or that Yankee captain, instead of making us her victims." "Clifford!" pouted his sister. "You are really trying. Madam my cousin hath said that I can bake and brew almost equal to Peggy, so you will have no need of simples after eating. Now does not that strawberry tart look tempting?" "It does indeed, lass," observed Mr. Owen. "Peggy will have to look to her laurels if you can get up such a meal as this. Come, come, Clifford! the proof of the pudding lies in the eating. Fall to, lad!" "My death will be upon your head, Harriet," observed her brother with such a sigh of resignation that Peggy could not help but laugh. "I do wish John Drayton were here." So with jest and laughter the family lingered over the meal, as if loath to make further exertion in the growing heat. In the midst of the cheer the knocker sounded, and, as though in answer to Clifford's wish, the door swung back quietly, and John Drayton entered. Peggy sprang up at sight of him. "Thee is just in time, John," she cried gaily. "Clifford was just wishing for thee. I'll lay a plate for thee." "Clifford?" Drayton's tones were filled with astonishment. There had been a sort of tacit truce established between the young fellows, but the feeling between them was such that for either to express desire for the other's company was cause for wonderment.