day of anxiety.

They turned at last into the live-oak avenue,--they had only another
half mile to go; and here, in the place where the lady had closest
association, her memory was suddenly revived almost to clearness. She
began to hurry Peter impatiently; it was a mischance that she had not
been met at the ferry. She was going to see to putting the house in
order, and the women were all waiting. It was autumn, and they were
going to move over from Beaufort; it was spring next moment, and she
had to talk with her overseers. The old imperiousness flashed out. Did
not Peter know that his master was kept at the front, and the young
gentlemen were with him, and their regiment was going into action? It
was a blessing to come over and forget it all, but Peter must drive,
drive. They had taken no care of the avenue; how the trees were broken
in the storm! The house needed--They were going to move the next day
but one, and nothing was ready. A party of gentlemen were coming from
Charleston in the morning!--

They passed the turn of the avenue; they came out to the open lawn,
and the steer stopped and began to browse. Peter shook from head to
foot. He climbed down by the wheel, and turned his face slowly. "Ole
mis'!" he said feebly. "_Ole mis'!_"

She was looking off into space. The cart jerked as it moved after the
feeding steer. The mistress of Sydenham plantation had sought her home
in vain. The crumbled, fallen chimneys of the house were there among
the weeds, and that was all.

On Christmas Day and Easter Day, many an old man and woman come into
St. Helena's Church who are not seen there the rest of the year. There
are not a few recluses in the parish, who come to listen to their
teacher and to the familiar prayers, read with touching earnestness
and simplicity, as one seldom hears the prayers read anywhere. This
Easter morning dawned clear and bright, as Easter morning should. The
fresh-bloomed roses and lilies were put in their places. There was no
touch of paid hands anywhere, and the fragrance blew softly about the
church. As you sat in your pew, you could look out through the
wide-opened doors, and see the drooping branches, and the birds as
they sat singing on the gravestones. The sad faces of the old people,
the cheerful faces of the young, passed by up the aisle. One figure
came to sit alone in one of the pews, to bend its head in prayer after
the ancient habit. Peter led her, as usual, to the broad-aisle
d