istfully, proudly, her soul in her eyes. All the pain, all the
solicitude, all the anguish of a Southern woman, and a wife of a
Northern man, who had borne him Northern children deepened in her
gaze, till her eyes dimmed and her lids quivered and closed; and
Ailsa's arms tightened around her.

"It is ve'y hard, Honey-bud," was all she said.

She had Dr. West's permission to read to the sick, mend their
clothing, write letters for them, and perform such little offices
as did not require the judgment of trained nurses.

By preference she devoted herself to the Confederate sick, but she
was very sweet and gentle with all, ready to do anything any sick
man asked; and she prayed in her heart that if her husband and her
son were ever in need of such aid. God would send, in mercy, some
woman to them, and not let them lie helpless in the clumsy hands of
men.

She had only one really disagreeable experience. Early in March a
government detective sent word that he wished to speak to her; and
she went down to Dr. West's office, where a red-faced, burly man
sat smoking a very black cigar. He did not rise as she entered;
and, surprised, she halted at the doorway.

"Are you Mrs. Craig?" he demanded, keeping his seat, his hat, and
the cigar between his teeth.

"Are you a government detective?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then stand up when you speak to me!" she said sharply. "I reckon
a Yankee nigger has mo' manners than you display."

And the astonished detective presently found himself, hat in hand,
cigar discarded, standing while Mrs. Craig, seated, replied
indifferently to his very mild questions.

"Are you a Southerner, Mrs. Craig?"

"I am."

"Your husband is Colonel Estcourt Craig, 3rd New York Zouaves?"

"He is."

"You have a son serving in that regiment?"

"Yes."

"Private soldier?"

"Yes."

"You are not a volunteer nurse?"

"No."

"Your sister-in-law, Mrs. Paige, is?"

"Yes."

"Now, Mrs. Craig"--but he could not succeed in swaggering, with her
calm, contemptuous eyes taking his measure--"now, Mrs. Craig, is
it true that you own, a mansion called Paigecourt near Richmond?"

"I do."

"It was your father's house?"

"It was my father's home befo' he was married."

"Oh. Who owns your father's house--the one he lived in after he
was married?"

"Mrs. Paige."

"She is your sister-in-law? Your brother inherited this house?
And it is called Marye Mead, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"It is not occupied?"