her as best I could
but it was useless. He was a thief to steal her--just a child!" There was
a bitterness and contempt in Mrs. Matilda's usually tender voice. She
sat up very straight and there was a sparkle in her bright eyes.

"And the girl," continued the major thoughtfully, "was born as her mother
died. He'd never let the mother come back and he never brought the child.
Now he's dead. I wonder--I wonder. We've got a claim on that girl,
Matilda. We--"

"And, dear, that is just what I came back in such a hurry to tell you
about--I felt it so--I haven't been able to say it right away. I began by
talking about Mary Caroline and--I--I--"

"Why, Matilda!" said the major in vague alarm at the tremble in his
wife's voice. He laid his hand over hers on the arm of his chair with a
warm clasp.

"It's just this, Major. You know how happy I have been, we all have been,
over the wonderful statue that has been given in memory of the women of
the Confederacy who stayed at home and fed the children and slaves while
the men fought. As you advised them, they have decided to put it in the
park just to the left of the Temple of Arts, on the very spot where
General Darrah had his last gun fired and spiked just before he fell and
just as the surrender came. It's strange, isn't it, that nobody knows
who's giving it? Perhaps it was because you and David and I were talking
last night about what he should say about General Darrah when he made
the presentation of the sketches of the statue out at the opening of the
art exhibition in the Temple of Arts to-night, that made me dream about
Mary Caroline all night. It is all so strange." Again Mrs. Buchanan
paused with a half sob in her voice.

"Why, what is it, Matilda?" the major asked as he turned and looked at
her anxiously.

"It's a wonderful thing that has happened, Major. Something, I don't know
what, just made me go out to the Temple this morning to see the sketches
of the statue which came yesterday. I felt I couldn't wait until to-night
to see them. Oh, they are so lovely! Just a tall fearless woman with a
baby on her breast and a slave woman clinging to her skirts with her own
child in her arms!

"As I stood before the case and looked at them the tragedy of all the
long fight came back to me. I caught my breath and turned away--and there
stood a girl! I knew her instantly, for I was looking straight into Mary
Caroline's own purple eyes. Then I just opened my arms and held her