She put her hands on his shoulders,
and he stooped to kiss her trembling lips.

They walked out together to the summer-house, and stood watching the
glory of the light on the western hills. "Jinn," said the Colonel, "I
reckon you will have to go to your Aunt Lillian. It--it will be hard.
But I know that my girl can take care of herself. In case--in case I do
not come back, or occasion should arise, find Lige. Let him take you to
your Uncle Daniel. He is fond of you, and will be all alone in Calvert
House when the war is over. And I reckon that is all I have to say. I
won't pry into your heart, honey. If you love Clarence, marry him. I
like the boy, and I believe he will quiet down into a good man."

Virginia did not answer, but reached out for her father's hand and held
its fingers locked tight in her own. From the kitchen the sound of Ned's
voice rose in the still evening air.

"Sposin' I was to go to N' Orleans an' take sick and die,
Laik a bird into de country ma spirit would fly."

And after a while down the path the red and yellow of Mammy Easter's
bandanna was seen.

"Supper, Miss Jinny. Laws, if I ain't ramshacked de premises fo' you
bof. De co'n bread's gittin' cold."

That evening the Colonel and Virginia thrust a few things into her
little leather bag they had chosen together in London. Virginia had
found a cigar, which she hid until they went down to the porch, and
there she gave it to him; when he lighted the match she saw that his
hand shook.

Half an hour later he held her in his arms at the gate, and she heard
his firm tread die in the dust of the road. The South had claimed him at
last.

Volume 7.

CHAPTER VII. WITH THE ARMIES OF THE WEST

We are at Memphis,--for a while,--and the Christmas season is
approaching once more. And yet we must remember that war recognizes no
Christmas, nor Sunday, nor holiday. The brown river, excited by rains,
whirled seaward between his banks of yellow clay. Now the weather was
crisp and cold, now hazy and depressing, and again a downpour. Memphis
had never seen such activity. A spirit possessed the place, a restless
spirit called William T. Sherman. He prodded Memphis and laid violent
hold of her. She groaned, protested, turned over, and woke up, peopled
by a new people. When these walked, they ran, and they wore a blue
uniform. They spoke rapidly and were impatient. Rain nor heat nor
tempest kept them in. And yet they joked, and Memphis