at in the
shade of its porch. Miss Thankful was only awakened from her daydream
by the entrance of the negro farm-hand, Caesar.

"Fo' God, Missy Thankful, them sogers is g'wine into camp in the road,
I reckon, for they's jest makin' theysevs free afo' the house, and
they's an officer in the company-room with his spurs cocked on the
table, readin' a book."

A quick flame leaped into Thankful's cheek, and her pretty brows knit
themselves over darkening eyes. She arose from her work no longer the
moody girl, but an indignant goddess, and, pushing the servant aside,
swept down the stairs, and threw open the door.

An officer sitting by the fire in an easy, lounging attitude that
justified the servant's criticism, arose instantly with an air of
evident embarrassment and surprise that was, however, as quickly
dominated and controlled by a gentleman's breeding.

"I beg your pardon," he said, with a deep inclination of his handsome
head, "but I had no idea that there was any member of this household at
home--at least, a lady." He hesitated a moment, catching in the
raising of her brown-fringed lids a sudden revelation of her beauty,
and partly losing his composure. "I am Major Van Zandt: I have the
honor of addressing--"

"Thankful Blossom," said Thankful a little proudly, divining with a
woman's swift instinct the cause of the major's hesitation. But her
triumph was checked by a new embarrassment visible in the face of the
officer at the mention of her name.

"Thankful Blossom," repeated the officer quickly. "You are, then, the
daughter of Abner Blossom?"

"Certainly," said Thankful, turning her inquiring eyes upon him. "He
will be here betimes. He has gone only to Morristown." In a new fear
that had taken possession of her, her questioning eyes asked, "Has he
not?"

The officer, answering her eyes rather than her lips, came toward her
gravely. "He will not return to-day, Mistress Thankful, nor perhaps
even to-morrow. He is--a prisoner."

Thankful opened her brown eyes aggressively on the major. "A
prisoner--for what?"

"For aiding and giving comfort to the enemy, and for harboring spies,"
replied the major with military curtness.

Mistress Thankful's cheek flushed slightly at the last sentence: a
recollection of the scene on the porch and the baron's stolen kiss
flashed across her, and for a moment she looked as guilty as if the man
before her had been a witness to the deed. He saw it, and
misinter