recognize me. I am Mrs. General Longstreet, but
you knew me when a girl as Bettie Garland."

"Bettie Garland! And is this indeed you? I am so glad to see you. Where
does Miss Ann[e] live now?" I always called my last mistress, Miss
Ann[e].

"Ah! I thought you could not forget old friends. Cousin Ann[e] is living
in Lynchburg. All the family are in Virginia. They moved to the old
State during the war. Fannie is dead. Nannie has grown into a woman and
is married to General Meem. Hugh was killed in the war, and now only
Spot, Maggie, and Nannie are left."

"Fannie, dead! and poor Hugh! You bring sad news as well as pleasant.
And so my little pet is married? I can hardly believe it; she was only a
child when I saw her last."

"Yes, Nannie is married to a noble man. General Meem belongs to one of
the best families in Virginia. They are now living at Rude's Hill, up
beyond Winchester, in the Shenandoah Valley. All of them want to see you
very badly."

"I should be delighted to go to them. Miss Bettie, I can hardly realize
that you are the wife of General Longstreet; and just think, you are now
sitting in the very chair and the very room where Mrs. Lincoln has often
sat!"

She laughed: "The change is a great one, Lizzie; we little dream to-day
what to-morrow will bring forth. Well, we must take a philosophical view
of life. After fighting so long against the Yankees, General Longstreet
is now in Washington, sueing for pardon, and we propose to live in
peace with the United States again."

I had many questions to ask her about old friends, and the time passed
rapidly. She greeted me with the frankness that she had always extended
to me, and I was transported to days of the long-ago. Her stay in
Washington was brief, as the General arranged his business, and they
left the capital the next day.

Mrs. Longstreet gave me the Garlands' address, and I wrote to them,
expressing the hope that I would be able to see them before long. In
reply came letters full of tender sympathy and affection. In the winter
of 1865, Miss Nannie wrote to me that she had the best husband in the
world; that they designed going to housekeeping in the spring, and that
they would be glad to have me make them a visit in July, 1866. She sent
me a pressing invitation. "You must come to me, dear Lizzie," she wrote.
"We are now living at Rude's Hill. I am dying to see you. Ma, Maggie,
Spot, and Minnie, sister Mary's child, are with me, and you only are