spot glowed upon each
cheek, but she did not smile as she used to do when receiving a guest,
and, while offering the stranger a seat, she remained standing,
looking very tall and grand.

During the conversation which followed, Mrs. Grey learned that as a
battle was imminent at the front it was impossible to pass her through
the lines (which had been her hope when she consented to see the
officer). It was equally impossible to remain where she was. Her only
place of refuge was her mother's home in Maryland, where she had been
raised, and had lived previous to her marriage.

Promising to arrange for her transportation to the nearest railroad
station, the kind-hearted officer took his leave.

When Maum Winnie was told of the proposed journey, she was greatly
troubled. But when Mrs. Grey further informed her that she was free
and not expected to make one of the party, her distress knew no
bounds. Rushing out of the cabin, she seated herself on a log at some
distance, and, throwing her apron over her head, rocked her body to
and fro, wailing out, "Oh, my hebbenly Marster, 'pears like I aint
fitten to bar all dis trouble. An' how dem dar gwine to do 'out ole
Winnie?"

After a while, drawing her pipe and tobacco from her pocket, she
sought the comfort of a smoke. Just then, Ruthy, the cook, made her
appearance with a large bucket on her head. Flaunting past the old
woman, she entered the kitchen without a word, and set about preparing
a supper for the hungry inmates of the cabin. Where the material came
from she declared was "her bizness," and her saucy manner and
independent talk so confounded Maum Winnie that she asked no more
questions, concluding that "Mars Yankee sont 'em an' made dat gal
fotch 'em."

Mrs. Grey and Nelly had few preparations to make for the morrow. The
child, soon after sunset, threw herself across the foot of the high
feather-bed which stood in a corner of the cabin, and slept soundly.
Maum Winnie, taking off her shoes, bustled about in her stocking-feet,
apparently very busy. Her movements were for some time unobserved by
her mistress, who was lost in thought. At last, kneeling before the
fireplace, she reached up the chimney and brought out from its
hiding-place an old, black tea-pot, with a broken spout. From this she
took several papers of dried "yarbs," some watermelon-seed, an old
thimble, a broken tea-spoon, a lock of "de ole man's ha'r," and
lastly, the foot of an old stocking, firmly tie