She jumped up to do so. While she was unfastening it her eyes moved to the window; she gave a little cry and ran forward. The day was clearing up, the sun was beginning faintly to shine, and the clouds were breaking.
"Mamma was right," exclaimed Peggy, joyfully; "I can see it—I can see it! I can see my white house again, my dear little fairy house."
She would have stayed there gazing out contentedly half the morning if her little brothers had not called her back.
"Peggy," said Hal, plaintively, "do tum. Baby's pulling Hal's 'air adain."
"Peggy's coming, dear," said the motherly little voice.
And in another moment they were settled on the hearth-rug—Baby on Peggy's lap—on, and off it too, for it was much too small to accommodate the whole of him; Hal on the floor beside her, his curly head leaning on his sister's shoulder in blissful and trustful content.
CHAPTER II
THE WHITE SPOT ON THE HILL