"Oh, how beautiful!" and Doris leaned over intently.
Warren placed a large log back of them, then he piled on some smaller split pieces. They began to blaze shortly. He picked up the turkey's wing and brushed around the stone hearth.
"That was very well done," remarked Miss Recompense approvingly.
"Warren knows how to make a fire," said his uncle, "and it is quite an art."
"That is a sign he will make a good husband," commented Betty. "And I shall get a bad one, for my fires go out half the time."
"You are too heedless," said Miss Recompense.
"Now, we ought to tell some ghost stories," suggested Warren. "Or we could wait until it gets a little darker. The sun is going down, and the fire is coming up, and just see how they are fighting at the Spanish Armada. Uncle Win, when you break up housekeeping you can leave me that picture."
They all turned to look at the picture in the cross light, with one of the wonderful fleet ablaze from the broadside of her enemy. It was a vigorous if somewhat crude painting by a Dutch artist.
"Oh, Uncle Win," cried Betty; "do you really think there will be war when we have a new President?"
"I sincerely hope not."