"You're happy," murmured Wade. "The bird's happy. Zephania's happy. This must be a happy village." He pondered a moment, gazing contentedly about the cosy sunlit room. Then, "And I'm happy myself," he added with conviction. And to prove it he began to whistle merrily while he finished dressing. Presently there was a knock on the dining-room door. "Yes?" responded Wade. "Please, sir, what will you have for breakfast?" Being by this time decently dressed, Wade opened the door. "Hello!" he said. "Good morning," answered Zephania. If he had not been informed that her age was fifteen Wade would have supposed Zephania's years to be not over a baker's dozen. She was a round-faced, smiling-visaged, black-haired, black-eyed, ruddy-cheeked little mite who simply oozed cheerfulness and energy. She wore a shapeless pink cotton dress which reached almost to her ankles, and over that a blue-checked apron which nearly trailed on the floor. Her sleeves were rolled elbow-high and one little thin hand clutched a dish-cloth as a badge of office. Wade stared dubiously at Zephania and Zephania smiled brightly back. "Look here, my child," said Wade, "how old are you, anyway?" "Fifteen in March, sir." "Next March?" "No, sir, last." "You don't look it." "No, sir, folks say I'm small for my age," agreed Zephania, cheerfully. "I agree with them. Do you think you're strong enough to do the work here?" "Oh, yes, sir. This is a very easy house to look after." "Well," said Wade, hesitatingly, "you can have a try at it, but it seems to me you're too young to be doing housework." "I've always done it," replied Zephania, beamingly. "What'll you have for breakfast, sir?" "Coffee--can you make coffee?" "Yes, sir, three ways." "Well, one way will do," said Wade, hurriedly. "And you'll find some eggs there, I believe, and some bread. You might fry the eggs and toast the bread. I guess that will do for this morning." "Yes, sir, thank you," answered Zephania, politely. "Wouldn't you rather have the eggs poached?" "Er--why, yes, if you can do it." "I can cook eggs eleven ways," said Zephania, proudly. "Are you going to eat breakfast in here or in there?" She nodded past Wade at the sitting-room. "Well, what do you think?" "It's sunnier in there, sir. I could just clear the end of that table. There's a fine big tray, sir." "An excellent idea," replied Wade. "I place myself--and my house--in your hands, Zephania." "Thank you, sir," said Zephania.