Though it was still dark when she opened her eyes, Peggy knew instinctively that the long night was over. Her small body felt warm and safe snuggled deep into the billowy feather mattress her great-grandmother had made many years before. She had the most pleasant half-asleep, half-awake sensation. It was that magical time of morning when you dare not speak--you barely breathe--so as to prolong those few ethereal moments, just before dawn, when the world is warm and hazy and beautiful. Muted sounds began to invade her senses as she pressed her face deeper into the pillow, drinking in the sweet...