“No, she was terrible pleased to get in.”

It was characteristic of him that he soon had Elspeth happy by arguments not one of which he believed himself; characteristic also that his own grief was soothed by the sound of them.  Aaron, who was in the garret preparing their bed, had told the children that they must remain indoors to-day out of respect to their mother’s memory (to-morrow morning they could explore Thrums); but there were many things in that kitchen for them to look at and exult over.  It had no commonplace ceiling, the couples, or rafters, being covered with the loose flooring of a romantic garret, and in the rafters were several great hooks, from one of which hung a ham, and Tommy remembered, with a thrill which he communicated to Elspeth, that it is the right of Thrums children to snip off the ham as much as they can remove with their finger-nails and roast it on the ribs of the fire.  The chief pieces of furniture were a dresser, a corner cupboard with diamond panes, two tables, one of which stood beneath the other, but would have to come out if Aaron tried to bake, and a bed with a door.  These two did not know it, but the room was full of memories of Jean Myles.  The corner cupboard had been bought by Aaron at a roup because she said she would like to have one; it was she who had chosen the six cups and saucers with the blue spots on them.  A razor-strop, now hard as iron, hung on a nail on the wall; it had not been used since the last time Aaron strutted through the Den with his sweetheart.  One day later he had opened the door of the bird-cage, which still stood in the window, and let the yellow yite go.  Many things were where no woman would have left them:  clothes on the floor with the nail they had torn from the wall; on a chair a tin basin, soapy water and a flannel rag in it; horn spoons with whistles at the end of them were anywhere—­on the mantelpiece, beneath the bed; there were drawers that could not be opened because their handles were inside.  Perhaps the windows were closed hopelessly also, but this must be left doubtful; no one had ever tried to open them.

The garret where Tommy and Elspeth were to sleep was reached by a ladder from the hallan; when you were near the top of the ladder your head hit a trap-door and pushed it open.  At one end of the garret was the bed, and at the other end were piled sticks for firewood and curious dark-colored slabs whose smell the children disliked until Tommy said, excitedly, “Peat!” and then they sniffed reverently.

It was Tommy, too, who discovered the tree-tops of the Den, and Elspeth seeing him gazing in a transport out at the window cried, “What is it, Tommy?  Quick!”

“Promise no to scream,” he replied, warningly.  “Well, then, Elspeth Sandys, that’s where the Den is!”

Elspeth blinked with awe, and anon said, wistfully, “Tommy, do you see that there?  That’s where the Den is!”

“It were me what told you,” cried Tommy, jealously.