eyes and smiles upon a group of young faces in an upper window; a
moment more and the door is thrown open, and childish forms hurl themselves
upon him.

As soon as the children's noisy greeting was over, Mr. Sherwood entered
the room where his wife awaited his appearance, and drawing a chair near
the couch where she was reclining, related the news of the day.

"Yes, I am later than usual, but I received a despatch from mother, and
that detained me," said he, in answer to her remark. "I have arranged to
run down to the farm to-morrow, as mother says my immediate presence is
necessary."

"And is there no word from Charley yet? His name is not in the list of
killed or wounded, but I fear the worst."

"His wife was at the telegraph office while I was there," said Mr.
Sherwood, as they entered the dining-room. "She expected news every hour,
and will send you word directly she gets a message. I tried to persuade her
to return with me, but she was too anxious to leave the office until she
had some reply to her despatch."

"This is a trying time for wives and sisters, and Charley was my favorite
brother. But what new trouble has happened at the farm, that you are needed
in such haste?" Mrs. Sherwood asked, as she poured out the tea.

"It seems that mother has heard that I intend joining the new company, if
it is called out, and she has objections which she wishes to make
personally. You know mother is not a Unionist; her southern prejudices are
too strong for that, and the possibility of my joining the northern army
has embittered her mind. You might come with me to-morrow; the change would
do you good," he added.

"My visits to the farm are doubtful pleasures," replied Mrs. Sherwood, who
had but little sympathy with her husband's people, "but any change will be
welcome while this uncertainty exists about my brother. Can I trust you all
to be good and obedient if I leave you in charge of Nurse Johnson?" she
asked, lifting her eyes to the young faces around the table.

The best of behavior being readily promised, Mrs. Sherwood soon left the
room to make preparations for the unexpected journey, and early next
morning Mr. Sherwood and his wife were on the train bound for Crofton, the
nearest station to the old home farm.

While they are on the way, a glance at the history of his parents will
explain how matters stand at the homestead.

Squire Sherwood was a well-to-do farmer, who was well known outside of his
own villa