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The aide-de-camp laughed like a rustic and vanished. "Smith," said the Major, "your eyes are--"

My thanks were few and awkward, for there still hung to the missive a basting thread, and it was as warm as a nestling bird. I bent low--everybody was emotional in those days--kissed the fragrant thing, thrust it into my bosom, and blushed worse than Camille.

"Miz Wall!" cried the husband--"She's busy talkin'.--Miz Wall!--she don't hyuh me. I hate to interrupt heh.--Oh, Miz Wall! hyuh's Majo' Harper's clerk, right now!"

"Why, I suppose I'm to find there a road down Cole's Creek to Clifton."

"I shall count myself honored," said I, and we went, together and alone.

Was all the sound we heard.'

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