off its foot and the wooden support stuck out for all the world like a ridiculous wooden leg."
At the gate of Grimstone Vale held Grace's hand a moment. "If only I might have walked beside you—had a few words alone with you."
She withdrew hers quickly. "Oh, do you think I'm made of iron?" she said.
Derek gave Lottie Rain the presents for her little girls. He bolted the kitchen door after her and returned to the dining room. He raised the flame of the lamp and sat down by the table. Then, with a whimsical smile, he drew the doll from his pocket. He held her close to the lamp and examined her matted yellow hair and glassy blue eyes. "You look terribly cold in that pink shimmy," he said, "and you certainly have a game leg. But I'm sure Buckskin will love you. Poor little Buckskin. His first Christmas. No mother. . . . We must find a name for you. H'm. Pegleg? That's the ticket. You shall be Pegleg from now on. . . ."
Buckskin made a scarcely perceptible mound under the yellow eiderdown in the huge four-poster. The bedroom was bitterly cold, for there was no way of heating it. Derek made short work of undressing, but he spent some time in choosing the best possible spot to lay Pegleg on, so that the sight of her might greet the child when he awoke. Then, when he had braced her there between the two pillows, he stood a full minute admiring the effect.
Buckskin loved Pegleg at first sight. He wakened Derek in the cold December dawn crowing over her. He sat up in bed with his curls on end hugging and kissing her. He pulled her hair and bit her in a fury of love. He held her
