disputants were concerned, was not without its unhappy results.

Moreover, Helen's father had been noted among those who had early
engaged in the crusade against slavery; and it was freely predicted by
her friends that the lawlessness which was supposed to exist in every
part of the collapsed Confederacy would be prompt to select the
representatives of Charles Osborne Eustis as its victims.

Miss Tewksbury affected to smile at the apprehensions of her friends,
but her preparations were not undertaken without a secret dread of the
responsibilities she was assuming. Helen, however, was disposed to treat
the matter humorously. "Dr. Buxton is a lifelong Democrat," she said;
"consequently he must know all about it. Father used to tell him he
liked his medicine better than his politics, bitter as some of it was;
but in a case of this kind, Dr. Buxton's politics have a distinct value.
He will give us the grips, the signs, and the pass-words, dear aunt, and
I dare say we shall get along comfortably."

II

THEY did get along comfortably. Peace seemed to spread her meshes before
them. They journeyed by easy stages, stopping a while in Philadelphia,
in Baltimore, and in Washington. They stayed a week in Richmond. From
Richmond they were to go to Atlanta, and from Atlanta to Azalia, the
little piny woods village which Dr. Buxton had recommended as a
sanitarium. At a point south of Richmond, where they stopped for
breakfast, Miss Eustis and her aunt witnessed a little scene that
seemed to them to be very interesting. A gentleman wrapped in a long
linen traveling-coat was pacing restlessly up and down the platform of
the little station. He was tall, and his bearing was distinctly
military. The neighborhood people who were lounging around the station
watched him with interest. After a while a negro boy came running up
with a valise which he had evidently brought some distance. He placed it
in front of the tall gentleman, crying out in a loud voice: "Here she
is, Marse Peyton," then stepped to one side, and began to fan himself
vigorously with the fragment of a wool hat. He grinned broadly in
response to something the tall gentleman said; but, before he could make
a suitable reply, a negro woman, fat and motherly-looking, made her
appearance, puffing and blowing and talking.

"I declar' ter gracious, Marse Peyton! seem like I wa'n't never gwine
ter git yer. I helt up my head, I did, fer ter keep my eye on de kyars,
en it look l