had put a piece of cake in his hand, he was still too frightened to eat, and stood, motionless as a bronze statue, his gaze intensely fixed on the streaming window, as he watched for the next terrifying flash. Rain thundered on the roof, and spattered in the fireplace. Phœbe returned to the kitchen to eat with the men. She took the baby with her, talking unintelligibly to him.
Fawnie had established herself beside the teapot. She was calm now, even playful, because the storm was easing, and she felt protected by Derek's presence. The cake and tea tasted very good to Derek, for he had eaten nothing since his breakfast the morning before. His spirits rose, and when Fawnie clapped her hands as a glimmer of sunlight gained the room, he smiled at her as at a child and said.
"Going to be a good girl?"
"You bet," she replied nodding her head emphatically. "And Phœbe's got to mind the baby and call me Mrs. Vale every time she speaks to me, and not laugh at my clothes. Kin I buy some new clothes right away, Durek?"
"Yes, but you must not be sharp with Phœbe or she'll leave, and God knows what we should do then."
"I'd get another servant, an Indian girl, and I'd slap her face if she was saucy, and pull her hair, and make her scrub the floor five times a day, hey, Lisgar, wouldn't I?"
"Sure," said Lisgar, "you'd likely kill her."
"In the meantime," Derek made his tone severe, "you're not to order Phœbe about too freely. She won't stand it, and I want to keep her."
Rising, he shook himself impatiently, strode to the door and threw it open. A moist, cool breeze swept into the room. Large bright drops still fell from the eave and splashed on the flagstones below, but the clouds, massed
