Lizzie Twiggs, before January was
quite past, was an event that shed light and joy in at least two
dwellings. It seemed as if she belonged to all of us, and as she
increased in size and beauty it was hard to say who, among us all, was
most proud of her. If we had ever felt any languid hours before, we
could have none now--she was the pet, the darling, the joint property of
both households.

Whatever regret I might have had, previous to this event, at the idea
of leaving my friend for the three weeks to which we proposed to limit
our visit to Chicago, I felt now that she would scarcely miss me, and
that we might hold ourselves in readiness to take advantage of the first
improvement in the weather, to put this favorite project in execution.

During the latter part of February the cold became less severe. The
snows melted away, and by the beginning of March the weather was so warm
and genial, that we were quite confident of being able to make the
journey on horseback without any serious difficulty.

Our plans once settled upon, the first thing to be provided was warm and
comfortable apparel. A riding-habit of stout broadcloth was pronounced
indispensable to my equipment. But of such an article I was destitute.
Nothing among my wedding travelling gear seemed in any way to offer a
substitute. What was to be done? The requisite material was to be found
in abundance at the sutler's store (_the shantee_, as it was technically
termed), but how to get it manufactured into a suitable garment was the
question.

The regimental tailor was summoned. He was cook to one of the companies,
and there were at first some doubts whether he could be permitted to
forsake the spit for the needle, during the time I should require his
services. All his tailoring-work had, heretofore, been done at odd times
on a bench in the company kitchen, and thither he now proposed to carry
the riding-habit. I suggested that, in order to superintend the work, I
should thus be driven to take up my abode for the time being in the
barracks, which would be a decided inconvenience.

To remedy the difficulty, he was finally so happy as to find a soldier
in "Company D," who consented to officiate in his place as cook until
his term of service to me should expire.

Behold, then, a little, solemn-looking man in his stocking-feet, seated
cross-legged on an Indian mat by my parlor window. He had made all his
arrangements himself, and I deemed it wisest not to interf