ent had bereft of reason and responsibility!
'Twere better I should retire at once, and leave her to herself," and
the young man slowly retreated toward the door.

But at this moment there were alarming symptoms of distress in the
window-curtain; and the major paused as a voice from its dimity depths
said plaintively, "And YOU are going without forgiving me!"

"Forgive YOU, Mistress Thankful," said the major, striding to the
curtain, and seizing a little hand that was obtruded from its
folds,--"forgive you? rather can you forgive me for the folly--the
cruelty of mistaking--of--of"--and here the major, hitherto famous for
facile compliments, utterly broke down. But the hand he held was no
longer cold, but warm and intelligent; and in default of coherent
speech he held fast by that as the thread of his discourse, until
Mistress Thankful quietly withdrew it, thanked him for his forgiveness,
and retired deeper behind the curtain.

When he had gone, she threw herself in a chair, and again gave way to a
passionate flood of tears. In the last twenty-four hours her pride had
been utterly humbled: the independent spirit of this self-willed little
beauty had met for the first time with defeat. When she had got over
her womanly shock at the news of the sham baron's death, she had, I
fear, only a selfish regard at his taking off; believing that if living
he would in some way show the world--which just then consisted of the
headquarters and Major Van Zandt--that he had really made love to her,
and possibly did honorably love her still, and might yet give her an
opportunity to reject him. And now he was dead, and she was held up to
the world as the conceited plaything of a fine gentleman's masquerading
sport. That her father's cupidity and ambition made him sanction the
imposture, in her bitterness she never doubted. No! Lover, friend,
father--all had been false to her, and the only kindness she had
received was from the men she had wantonly insulted. Poor little
Blossom! indeed, a most premature Blossom; I fear a most unthankful
Blossom, sitting there shivering in the first chill wind of adversity,
rocking backward and forward, with the skirt of her dimity short-gown
over her shoulders, and her little buckled shoes and clocked stockings
pathetically crossed before her.

But healthy youth is re-active; and in an hour or two Thankful was down
at the cow-shed, with her arms around the neck of her favorite heifer,
to whom she