unfamiliar with the Union's method of attack."

"Attack!" he repeated, astounded, and stepped back.

"What else?" she asked, simply. "My home is over-run; my servant
assaulted--by a drunken ruffian."

"The man will be punished," was the stern reply, "to the limit of my
authority."

"He _should_ be. We know him," the Southern woman said bitterly. "Before
the war he was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes and my husband
gave him a taste of his own discipline--with a riding whip!"

"Ah, I see," Morrison nodded. "But it is not always in an officer's
power to control each individual in the service--especially at such a
time. Yet I assure you on the part of the Union--and mine--that there
was no intention of attack."

Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which to draw her visitor off the
veranda and when she had successfully brought him to the foot of the
steps she looked up in smiling sarcasm with another thrust.

"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a _social_ one--how may I serve
you, sir?"

Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat could scratch.

"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong again. My detachment is on
foraging duty. It is not a pleasant task--but our army is in need of