"Some women can, Peggy, women like thee and me; and, truth to tell, I believe their laughing love is as well worth having as the sighs of those who must pull a long face and grow pale and go about solemnly breathing out prayers and poems; but if thou wilt have my judgment in thy case, little one, I think thou art as one who uses the beads of a rosary to play marbles before the world, yet in the closet will string them once more and murmur Pater Nosters and Ave Marias as piously as any nun. "Never mind! By and by thou wilt make a little shrine for them and they will grow more sacred, and then little by little thou wilt forget that thou couldst once laugh and make merry over them. Kiss me and say, dost not feel it so?" No answer. "But Romney must wait patiently for the stringing of the beads and the building of the shrine, and not try to bless the rosary till the play is over. As for thee, Peggy, trouble not thy head over the future, and for the present cease to twitch at that skein which thou art snarling past all hope of disentangling." "How stupid of me! and I was going to make it such a lovely skein for a surprise," and Peggy's nervous fingers began to work with the refractory thread. "I came to talk of lighter things when I was drawn into this discourse of love," said Elizabeth. "I wanted to tell thee, Peggy, of a plan we have for a day not far off when this graceless boy of ours comes to man's estate. If we were at home in England we should keep this twenty-first birthday of his with state and ceremony, but here in the wilds our festivities must needs be primitive. We have thought of a barbecue in the forest for the tenants and a dance in the house for the friends and neighbors. For a dance, folk twenty miles away count themselves neighbors." "A dance!" Peggy's eyes lighted and then fell with a sudden sadness upon her black dress. Romney's glance followed hers and he said quietly,-- "Let us not attempt it, Mother. We are none of us in the mood." "Perhaps we all need it the more on that account. Even to the world Peggy's year of mourning is over, and there will be less questioning if she takes her place in the world once more; and among ourselves, where it is a question of Christopher, surely the best service we can do him is to bring what gayety of heart we can into his life." "You speak wisdom, Mistress Huntoon; but your words bring home to me something I have often of late wished to speak of with you. I--we--cannot longer trench upon even your inexhaustible hospitality."