ve I would have
cried with embarrassment if the command had not been given at that
moment. They drilled splendidly, and knew it, too, so went through it
as though they had not been at it for an hour before. One conceited,
red-headed lieutenant smiled at us in the most fascinating way; perhaps
he smiled to think how fine he was, and what an impression he was
making.

We got back to our solitary house before twilight, and were sitting on
the balcony, when Mr. Biddle entered. He came to ask if the guard had
been placed here last night. It seems to me it would have saved him
such a long walk if he had asked Colonel McMillan. He sat down, though,
and got talking in the moonlight, and people passing, some citizens,
some officers, looked wonderingly at this unheard-of occurrence. I
won't be rude to any one in my own house, Yankee or Southern, say what
they will. He talked a great deal, and was very entertaining; what
tempted him, I cannot imagine. It was two hours before he thought of
leaving. He was certainly very kind. He spoke of the scarcity of flour
in town; said they had quantities at the Garrison, and asked permission
to send us a barrel, which of course we refused. It showed a very good
heart, though. He offered to take charge of any letters I would write;
said he had heard General Williams speak of Harry; and when he at last
left, I was still more pleased with him for this kindness to us. He
says Captain Huger is dead. I am very, very much distressed. They are
related, he says. He talked so reasonably of the war, that it was quite
a novelty after reading the abusive newspapers of both sides. I like
him, and was sorry I could not ask him to repeat his visit. We are
unaccustomed to treat gentlemen that way; but it won't do in the
present state to act as we please. Mob governs.

Mother kept me awake all night to listen to the mice in the garret.
Every time I would doze she would ask, "What's that?" and insist that
the mice were men. I had to get up and look for an imaginary host, so I
am tired enough this morning.

Miriam has just got in with all the servants, our baggage is on the
way, so we will be obliged to stay whether we will or no. I don't care;
it is all the same, starve or burn. Oh! I forgot. Mr. Biddle did _not_
write that pass! It was his clerk. He speaks _very_ grammatically, so
far as I can judge!!

June 8th, Sunday.

These people mean to kill us with