observed.

We saw that her anger was real, not affected. Evidently Peter
was not an admirer of whom Felicity was proud.

We were very hungry boys; and when we had eaten all we could--and
oh, what suppers Aunt Janet always spread!--we discovered that we
were very tired also--too tired to go out and explore our
ancestral domains, as we would have liked to do, despite the
dark.

We were quite willing to go to bed; and presently we found
ourselves tucked away upstairs in the very room, looking out
eastward into the spruce grove, which father had once occupied.
Dan shared it with us, sleeping in a bed of his own in the
opposite corner. The sheets and pillow-slips were fragrant with
lavender, and one of Grandmother King's noted patchwork quilts
was over us. The window was open and we heard the frogs singing
down in the swamp of the brook meadow. We had heard frogs sing
in Ontario, of course; but certainly Prince Edward Island frogs
were more tuneful and mellow. Or was it simply the glamour of
old family traditions and tales which was over us, lending its
magic to all sights and sounds around us? This was home--
father's home--OUR home! We had never lived long enough in any
one house to develop a feeling of affection for it; but here,
under the roof-tree built by Great-Grandfather King ninety years
ago, that feeling swept into our boyish hearts and souls like a
flood of living sweetness and tenderness.

"Just think, those are the very frogs father listened to when he