only knew that he lived somewhere in Virginia."

"He is among those out on the hill behind the orchard," said Mima,
sadly. Mammy Peggy wiped her eyes, and went about trying to add some
touches of comfort to the already perfect room.

"You have no reason to sorrow, Miss Harrison," said Northcope gently,
"for a brother who died bravely in battle for his principles. Had fate
allowed me to be here I should have been upon the other side, but
believe me, I both understand and appreciate your brother's heroism."

The young girl's eyes glistened with tears, through which glowed her
sisterly pride.

"Won't you come out and look at his grave?"

"It is the desire that was in my mind."

Together they walked out, with mammy following, to the old burying
plot. All her talk was of her brother's virtues, and he proved an
appreciative listener. She pointed out favorite spots of her brother's
childhood as they passed along, and indicated others which his boyish
pranks had made memorable, though the eyes of the man were oftener on
her face than on the landscape. But it was with real sympathy and
reverence that he stood with bared head beside the grave of his
friend, and the tears that she left fall unchecked in his presence
were not all tears of grief.

They did not go away from him that afternoon until Mammy Peggy,
seconded by Mima, had won his consent to let the old servant come over