eir plans and prospects from the taxpayers--the
capitalists of the South who made the war possible. "But the
instructions received lead me to believe a general movement of much
importance is about to be made in our department, and my opportunities
will be all a soldier could wish."

"So you have become a Brigadier-General instead of the Lieutenant we
knew only three years ago," and Judithe's eyes rested on him
graciously for an instant, as Monroe and Gertrude helped Loring out to
the wheeled chair on the lawn. "You travel fast--you Americans! I
congratulate you."

She had arisen and crossed the room to the little writing desk in the
corner. He followed with his eyes her graceful walk and the pretty
fluttering movements of her hands as she drew out note paper and
busied herself rather ostentatiously. He smiled as he noticed it; she
was afraid of a tete-a-tete; she was trying to run away, if only to
the farther side of the room.

"I shall consider myself a more fit subject for congratulation if you
prove more kind to the General than you were to the Lieutenant."

"People usually are," she returned lightly. "I do not fancy you will
have much of unkindness to combat, except from the enemy."

Evilena entered the room humming an air, and her brother remarked
carelessly that the first of the enemy to invade their domain was not
very formidable at present, though Captain Jack Monroe had made a
fighting record for himself in the western campaign. Judithe did not
appear particularly interested in the record of the Northern campaign,
but Evilena, who had been too much absorbed in the question of
wardrobe to keep informed of the late arrivals, fairly gasped at the
name.

"Really and truly, is that Yankee here?" she demanded, "right here in
the house? Caroline said it wasn't a Yankee--just some friend of
yours."

"So he is."

"And--a--_Yankee_?"

He nodded his head and smiled at her. Judithe had picked up a pen and
was writing. Evilena glanced towards her for assistance in this
astonishing state of affairs, but no one appeared to be shocked but
herself.

"Well!" she said, at last, resignedly, "since we are to have any
Yankee here, I'm glad it's the one Gertrude met at Beaufort. I've been
conjuring up romances about them ever since, and I am curious to see
if he looks like the Jack Monroe in the song."

"Not likely," said her brother, discouragingly, "he is the least
romantic hero for a song you can imagine; but if yo