place and apologized for its
defects, the results of the war.

"I am sorry about the window curtains--we have used them all for dresses.
Marion is a genius with a needle, and we took the last pair out of the
parlour to make a dress for a birthday party. The year before, we used the
ones in my room for a costume at a starvation party in a benefit for our
rector--you know we're Episcopalians--strayed up here for our health from
Charleston among these good Scotch Presbyterians."

"We will soon place curtains at the windows," said Elsie cheerfully.

"The carpets were sent to the soldiers for blankets during the war. It was
all we could do for our poor boys, except to cut my hair and sell it. You
see my hair hasn't grown out yet. I sent it to Richmond the last year of
the war. I felt I must do something when my neighbours were giving so
much. You know Mrs. Cameron lost four boys."

"I prefer the floors bare," Elsie replied. "We will get a few rugs."

She looked at the girlish hair hanging in ringlets about Mrs. Lenoir's
handsome face, smiled pathetically, and asked:

"Did you really make such sacrifices for your cause?"

"Yes, indeed. I was glad when the war was ended for some things. We
certainly needed a few pins, needles, and buttons, to say nothing of a cup
of coffee or tea."

"I trust you will never lack for anything again," said Elsie kindly.

"You will bring us good luck," Mrs. Lenoir responded. "Your coming is so
fortunate. The cotton tax Congress levied was so heavy this year we were
going to lose everything. Such a tax when we are all about to starve! Dr.
Cameron says it was an act of stupid vengeance on the South, and that no
other farmers in America have their crops taxed by the National
Government. I am so glad your father has come. He is not hunting for an
office. He can help us, maybe."

"I am sure he will," answered Elsie thoughtfully.

Marion ran up the steps lightly, her hair dishevelled and face flushed.

"Now, Mamma, it's almost sundown; you get ready to go. I want her awhile
to show her about my things."

She took Elsie shyly by the hand and led her into the lawn, while her
mother paid a visit to each room, and made up the last bundle of odds and
ends she meant to carry to the hotel.

"I hope you will love the place as we do," said the girl simply.

"I think it very beautiful and restful," Elsie replied. "This wilderness
of flowers looks like fairyland. You have roses running on the porc