Though the days were so warm the nights were chilly, and it was cheerful to watch the blazing logs.

What times they had together! It was an established rule that everybody contributed some item to the general entertainment, and in spite of fierce denials even the least accomplished were compelled to perform.

It brought out quite unexpected talent.

Peachy, who had always declared her music "wasn't up to anything," charmed the company by lilting darkie melodies or pathetic Indian songs, Captain Preston remembered conjuring tricks which he had learned in India, Mr.Roper proved a genius at relating short stories, and Mrs.Cameron could recite old ballads with the fervor of a medieval minstrel.

The walls of the Italian salon seemed to melt away and change to a wild moorland or a northern castle as she declaimed "Fair Helen of Kirconnell," "The Lament of the Border Widow," "Bartrum's Dirge," or "The Braes o' Yarrow." "Modern people want more poetry in their veins," she insisted.