things," she added, going to the window. Against the tossing branches her
hair made a glow of colour, and her vivid face was warm with tenderness.
"And Jane Lightfoot rode away on a night like this!" she whispered after a
pause.

"She wore a muslin dress and a coral necklace, you know," said Virginia, in
the same low tone, "and she had only a knitted shawl over her head when she
met Jack Montjoy at the end of the drive. He wrapped her in his cape, and
they rode like mad to the town--and she was laughing! Uncle Shadrach met
them in the road, and he says he heard her laughing in the wind. She must
have been very wicked, mustn't she, Betty?"

But Betty was looking into the storm, and did not answer. "I wonder if he
were in the least like Dan," she murmured a moment later.

"Well, he had black hair, and Dan has that," responded Virginia, lightly;
"and he had a square chin, and Dan has that, too. Oh, every one says that
Dan's the image of his father, except for the Lightfoot eyes. I'm glad he
has the Lightfoot eyes, anyway. Are you ready to go down?"

Betty was ready, though her face had grown a little grave, and with a last
look at the glass, they caught hands and went sedately down the winding
stair.

In the hall below they met Mrs. Lightfoot, who sent Virginia into the
panelled parlour, and bore Betty off to the kitchen to taste the sauce for
the plum pudding. "I can't do a thing on earth with Rhody," she remarked
uneasily, throwing a knitted scarf over her head as they went from the back
porch along the covered way that led to the brick kitchen. "She insists
that yours is the only palate in all the country she will permit to pass
judgment upon her sauce. I made the Major try it, and he thinks it needs a
dash more of rum, but Rhody says she shan't be induced to change it until
she has had your advice. Here, Rhody, open the door; I've brought your
young lady."

The door swung back with a jerk upon the big kitchen, where before the
Christmas turkeys toasting on the spit, Aunt Rhody was striding to and fro
like an Amazon in charcoal. From the beginning of the covered way they had
been guided by the tones of penetrant contempt, with which she lashed the
circle of house servants who had gathered to her assistance. "You des lemme
alont now," was the advice she royally offered. "Ef you gwine ax me w'at
you'd better do, I des tell you right now, you'd better lemme alont.
Ca'line, you teck yo' eyes off dat ar roas' pig, er