approval she soon developed into positive admiration by leading her
favorite to speak of her own past.

"Grace, you must know, Alford, is the daughter of an army officer, and
has seen some odd phases of life at the various military stations
where her father has been on duty."

These words piqued Graham's curiosity at once, and he became the
questioner. His own frank effort to entertain was now rewarded, and
the young girl, possessing easy and natural powers of description,
gave sketches of life at military posts which to Graham had more than
the charm of novelty. Unconsciously she was accounting for herself. In
the refined yet unconventional society of officers and their wives she
had acquired the frank manner so peculiarly her own. But the
characteristic which won Graham's interest most strongly was her
abounding mirthfulness. It ran through all her words like a golden
thread. The instinctive craving of every nature is for that which
supplements itself, and Graham found something so genial in Miss St.
John's ready smile and laughing eyes, which suggested an over-full
fountain of joyousness within, that his heart, chilled and repressed
from childhood, began to give signs of its existence, even during the
first hour of their acquaintance. It is true, as we have seen, that he
was in a very receptive condition, but then a smile, a glance that is
like warm sunshine, is never devoid of power.

The long May twilight had faded, and they were still lingering over
the supper-table, when a middle-aged colored woman in a flaming red
turban appeared in the doorway and said, "Pardon, Mis' Mayburn; I'se
a-hopin' you'll 'scuse me. I jes step over to tell Miss Grace dat de
major's po'ful oneasy,--'spected you back afo'."