his feet, bowing grandly in spite of his astonishment. A girl stood in
the doorway, her cloak falling loosely about her figure. Her cheeks
were blazing scarlet from the cold, and the deep gray eyes, fringed in
black, bore something in their warm depths that stirred familiar
memories.

"Colonel," she said, stretching out a slim, white hand, "I'm Ruth
Verney, Major Edward's niece. I've just driven one of your servants"
(rare tact was but one of the Verney charms) "over from Fernlands and I
thought you wouldn't mind if I ran in for an instant to enjoy your
fire."

"Why, child," the Colonel cried, forgetting all else in his delight,
"you must be Walter Verney's daughter." Ruth smilingly nodded. "I
knew it," he went on; "you have his eyes. Sit down here. I knew your
father well; when we were boys he and I were inseparable." He paused
and added simply:

"That was before the War."

The dark lashes veiled for an instant, a certain excitement in the gray
eyes. "I'm down for Christmas with Uncle Edward," Ruth explained; and
before the Colonel had fully realized it they were chatting happily
together like old friends. Suddenly the girl exclaimed: "Colonel
Fairfax, I know you'll be glad to hear that Dad and the Major are
friends again."

"Indeed I am!" agreed the Colonel heartily. "In the old days we would
have laughed at the man who could possibly have suggested a quarrel for
the Verney twins."