owards the front hall door.

"Take a light with you, Julia," called Aunt Betsy, from the bed-room
adjoining.

"Not for the world, Auntie."

Her acute ear had caught the tramp of horses' hoofs coming through the
avenue. When she opened the door, a tall man dressed in the Federal
uniform stood outside, his hair disheveled by wind, and face shining with
dashes of rain. She locked and bolted the door after him, and led the way
to the dining-room, where Roberta sat playing "checkers" with a
boyish-looking soldier, also dressed in Federal uniform.

"Give this gentleman some cake and wine, dear," she said to Roberta, "and
entertain him until I return; and you," to the other soldier, "go outside
for a little; Squire will show you where to go."

Her surmises were correct. Heavy spurred boot-heels crossed the porch
floor; there was a thundering knock with the butt-end of a riding-whip on
the outside of the door.

Inwardly quaking, and strengthening herself with silent prayer, she
opened the door. A squad of Federal soldiers stood before her. One of them
lifted his hat, and said courteously:

"We have come with authority from headquarters to search your house,
Madam; we understand you are harboring rebels."

"You are at liberty to search my house," she answered in a clear,
penetrating voice. "You will find some women and children, and one of your
cloth, here."

They searched sitting-room, bed-room, and passed into the dining-room; saw
a brother Federal there partaking of light refreshments; were pleasantly
accosted by him, and told he belonged to Company G, of Colonel M.'s
Michigan volunteers; had been sick and was out on furlough at the house of
a friend. One of them, a social kind of fellow, lingered on the threshold,
amused at the badinage passing between the soldier and the beautiful
child.

"Oh, no, you are not a rebel," the soldier was saying, "you can't make me
believe that; you've got too honest a face to be a rebel. Now, just
confess you are glad of the drubbing our boys gave 'em this morning."

"No, I'm not glad;" said Roberta, her eyes were filling with tears and her
lips quivering, "I'm just as sorry as I can be."

"Well, then, I'll tell you what I expect the trouble is. You've got a
sweetheart among them; and if I was you, I'd trade him off for a Union
sweetheart right away."

"I don't want any sweetheart at all; but if I wanted one I wouldn't have a
Yankee." Her eyes flashed and her cheeks crimsoned.