f up with a jerk, and
then quietly and sedately opened a latched door and entered the long
low-roofed kitchen.

There was something very restful in the scene. A square substantial table
covered with a white cloth, in the centre a large bowl of roses and
honeysuckle: home-made bread and golden butter, a glass dish of honey in
its comb, a plate of fresh watercress, and a currant loaf completed the
simple fare. Presiding at the tea-tray was a stern, forbidding-looking
woman of sixty or more, opposite her was seated her son, the master of
the farm, a heavy-faced, sleepy-looking man; and at his side, facing the
door, sat Teddy's mother. A sweet gentle-faced young woman she was, with
the same deep blue eyes as her little son; she bore no resemblance to
the elder woman, and looked, as she indeed was, superior to her
surroundings. Two years ago she had come with her child to make her home
amongst her husband's people, and though at first her mother-in-law, Mrs.
Platt, was inclined to look upon her contemptuously as a poor, delicate,
useless creature, time proved to her that for steady, quiet work no one
could eclipse her daughter-in-law. Young Mrs. John, as she was called,
was now her right hand, and the dairy work of the farm was made over
entirely to her.

'Late again, you young scamp!' was the stern greeting of his grandmother,
as Teddy appeared on the scene.

The boy looked at her with a twinkle in his eye, put his little hand to
his forehead, and gave her a military salute.

'Sorry,' was all he said as he slipped into the chair that was
waiting for him.

'What have you been doing, sonny?' asked the young mother, whose eyes had
brightened at the sight of him.

'Telling father's story,' replied Teddy with alacrity.

A shadow came over his mother's face, her lips took a distressed curve,
but she said nothing, only occupied herself with attending to the child's
wants. 'Your father was never late for his meals,' the grandmother put
in with asperity.

'Never, granny? Not when he was a boy? I shall be always in time when I'm
a soldier.'

'Better begin now, then; bad habits, like weeds, grow apace!'

Teddy had no answer for this; his mouth was full of bread and butter, and
he did not speak till the meal was over. Then, whilst tea was being taken
away by the women, he turned to his uncle, who, pulling out a pipe from
his pocket, sat down by the open door to smoke.

'Uncle Jake!'

A grunt was the only response; but t