joy gathering wild-flowers. They kept
within call of the parents, who, conversing on events familiar to them
all, strolled over the deserted grounds of an estate rendered sadly
famous by the misfortunes of its former possessors. Amid scenes
associated with the disastrous failure of a treasonable conspiracy, it
was natural to speak of Burr.

"He is paying a bitter penalty for his crime," Danvers commented.
"Though acquitted by the Federal Court at Richmond, in spite of Wirt's
arraignment, the traitor will not recover the people's good-will. He
lives in New York City, a man forbid. His four years' self-exile in
Europe, I am told, was a humiliating banishment from the loyal and
patriotic. No country can be a "Sweet Home" to the man who repudiates
his own nation's flag. Burr declares himself severed from the human
race, and so he is."

"You are relentless, Warren," said his sister. "I feel much pity for
the man, since his heart-breaking experience of two or three years
ago."

"Ah, yes; yes," Lucrece impulsively said; "Theodosia was her father's
incentive and his happiness. It was bad enough to lose the little
grandson. Think how you would grieve if your dear little boy should
die."

"We don't ever think of dying, do we, Dicky?" Evaleen cooed, making
mother eyes at her baby. "The world must have seemed a blank to Burr
after Theodosia was drowned."

"_Was_ she drowned?" questioned Arlington. "That was a mysterious
affair--the disappearance of the schooner--what was the vessel's
name, Danvers?"

"The Patriot. She sailed from Charleston for New York in the winter of
1812. I remember reading of the disaster just before marching with
General Harrison to Fort Meigs."

"The boat may have foundered or wrecked," said Arlington. "Some
believe it was captured by pirates, who carried Theodosia away to a
foreign port."

"That's an absurd theory!" declared Danvers.

"But not impossible, my dear," put in Lucrece. "I hope the poor lady
was not carried away; drowning is preferable," said Evaleen.

"You two wouldn't drown when you had a chance at Cypress Bayou,"
laughed the husband. "You chose to be carried away by one robber and
brought back by another."

Lucrece snugged close to her soldier, and he gave her a playful kiss.

"Spoony," sang Evaleen, whereupon her prim younger daughter, whose
plump fist tightly held a bunch of spring-beauties, looked up in
wonder and lisped:

"Mamma, what is spoony?"

The elder sister, som