in another part of the city for you. She's grown so tall and
stately you'll hardly know her. Your papa is at home, and don't know yet
that you are wounded."
"And my sweetheart, Marion Lenoir?"
"The most beautiful little girl in Piedmont--as sweet and mischievous as
ever. Mr. Lenoir is very ill, but he has written a glorious poem about one
of your charges. I'll show it to you to-morrow. He is our greatest poet.
The South worships him. Marion sent her love to you and a kiss for the
young hero of Piedmont. I'll give it to you now."
She bent again and kissed him.
"And my dogs?"
"General Sherman left them, at least."
"Well, I'm glad of that--my mare all right?"
"Yes, but we had a time to save her--Jake hid her in the woods till the
army passed."
"Bully for Jake."
"I don't know what we should have done without him."
"Old Aleck still at home and getting drunk as usual?"
"No, he ran away with the army and persuaded every negro on the Lenoir
place to go, except his wife, Aunt Cindy."
"The old rascal, when Mrs. Lenoir's mother saved him from burning to death
when he was a boy!"
"Yes, and he told the Yankees those fire scars were made with the lash,
and led a squad to the house one night to burn the barns. Jake headed them
off and told on him. The soldiers were so mad they strung him up and
thrashed him nearly to death. We haven't seen him since."
"Well, I'll take care of you, Mamma, when I get home. Of course I'll get
well. It's absurd to die at nineteen. You know I never believed the bullet
had been moulded that could hit me. In three years of battle I lived a
charmed life and never got a scratch."
His voice had grown feeble and laboured, and his face flushed. His mother
placed her hand on his lips.
"Just one more," he pleaded feebly. "Did you see the little angel who has
been playing and singing for me? You must thank her."
"Yes, I see her coming now. I must go and tell Margaret, and we will get a
pass and come every day."
She kissed him, and went to meet Elsie.
"And you are the dear girl who has been playing and singing for my boy, a
wounded stranger here alone among his foes?"
"Yes, and for all the others, too."
Mrs. Cameron seized both of her hands and looked at her tenderly.
"You will let me kiss you? I shall always love you."
She pressed Elsie to her heart. In spite of the girl's reserve, a sob
caught her breath at the touch of the warm lips. Her own mother had died
when
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