starting backward so suddenly that she
trod upon the foot of Lottie, who again sent forth an outcry, which
Anna Jeffrey managed to choke down. "Is this bedlam, or what?" And
stepping out upon the piazza, she looked to see if the blundering
driver had made a mistake. But no; it was the same old gray stone
house she had left some months before; and again pressing boldly
forward, she took the lamp from the sideboard and commenced to
reconnoiter. "My mother's wedding dress, as I live! and her scarlet
broadcloth, too!" she cried, holding to view the garments which
Henry Warner had thrown upon the arm of the long settee. A turban or
cushion, which she recognized as belonging to her grandmother, next
caught her view, together with the smallclothes of her sire.

"The entire contents of the oaken chest," she continued, in a tone far
from calm and cool. "What can have happened! It's some of that crazy
Hagar's work, I know. I'll have her put in the--" But whatever the
evil was which threatened Hagar Warren it was not defined by words,
for at that moment the indignant lady caught sight of an empty bottle,
which she instantly recognized as having held her very oldest,
choicest wine. "The Lord help me!" she cried, "I've been robbed;" and
grasping the bottle by the neck, she leaned up against the banner
which she had not yet descried.

"In the name of wonder, what's this?" she almost screamed, as the full
blaze of the lamp fell upon the flag, revealing the truth at once, and
partially stopping her breath.

Robbery was nothing to insult; and, forgetting the wine, she gasped:
"'Stars and Stripes' in this house! In the house of my grandfather,
as loyal a subject as King George ever boasted! What can Margaret be
doing to suffer a thing like this?"

A few steps further on, and Margaret herself might have been seen
peering out into the darkened upper hall, and listening anxiously
to her grandmother's voice. The sound of the rattling old wagon had
aroused her, and, curious to know who was stirring at this early hour,
she had cautiously opened her window, which overlooked the piazza, and
to her great dismay had recognized her grandmother as she gave orders
concerning her baggage. Flying back to her room, she awoke her sister,
who, springing up in bed, whispered faintly: "Will she kill us dead,
Maggie? Will she kill us dead?"

"Pshaw! no," answered Maggie, her own courage rising with Theo's
fears. "She'll have to scold a spell, I suppos