you," she wailed. "An' so would mothah. I
heard her tell the doctah so."

The tender expression on the Colonel's face changed to one like flint,
but he kept on stroking her hair. "People sometimes change their minds,"
he said, grimly. "I wouldn't worry over a little thing like that if I
were you. Don't you want to run down-stairs and tell M'ria to give you
a piece of cake?"

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed, smiling up at him. "I'll bring you some, too."

When the first train went into Louisville that afternoon, Walker was
on board with an order in his pocket to one of the largest dry goods
establishments in the city. When he came out again, that evening, he
carried a large box into the Colonel's room.

Lloyd's eyes shone as she looked into it. There was an elegant
fur-trimmed cloak, a pair of dainty shoes, and a muff that she caught up
with a shriek of delight.

"What kind of a thing is this?" grumbled the Colonel, as he took out a
hat that had been carefully packed in one corner of the box. "I
told them to send the most stylish thing they had. It looks like a
scarecrow," he continued, as he set it askew on the child's head.

She snatched it off to look at it herself. "Oh, it's jus' like Emma
Louise Wyfo'd's!" she exclaimed. "You didn't put it on straight. See!
This is the way it goes."

She climbed up in front of the mirror, and put it on as she had seen
Emma Louise wear hers.

"Well, it's a regular Napoleon hat," exclaimed the Colonel, much
pleased. "So little girls nowadays have taken to wearing soldier's caps,
have they? It's right becoming to you with your short hair. Grandpa is
real proud of his 'little Colonel.'"

She gave him the military salute he had taught her, and then ran to
throw her arms around him. "Oh, gran'fathah!" she exclaimed, between her
kisses, "you'se jus' as good as Santa Claus, every bit."

The Colonel's rheumatism was better next day; so much better that toward
evening he walked down-stairs into the long drawing-room. The room had
not been illuminated in years as it was that night.

Every wax taper was lighted in the silver candelabra, and the dim old
mirrors multiplied their lights on every side. A great wood fire threw a
cheerful glow over the portraits and the frescoed ceiling. All the linen
covers had been taken from the furniture.

Lloyd, who had never seen this room except with the chairs shrouded and
the blinds down, came running in presently. She was bewildered at first
by the