Springing quickly from his bed, he glanced around the room. Again the song and words, and again he looked, but saw no one. Wondering much at the occurrence, he proceeded with his toilet. At 8:45 he was with the President at breakfast, and had been introduced to Mrs. Craft and her lovely daughter, Mollie. "Papa says he has taken complete possession of you, Mr. Cobb; and I am so glad, for I want you to tell me so much about those queer old days so long ago;" and she gave him a pleasant smile. "We are delighted, dear Mr. Cobb, to have you with us. You must consider this your home now, for you have no other, you know;" and good Mrs. Craft spoke in a motherly tone of voice. "And, of course, you will want a sister;" Mollie Craft cast her eyes down in a shy manner. "Yes," said Mr. Craft, with evident pleasure and hope in his voice. "We want you to feel that you have not left all your friends in that distant age. We desire you to consider this your home as long as it shall please you to do so. My wife and I will endeavor to be a mother and a father to you; our daughter, a sister; our son, a brother." Mollie Craft was a lovely girl of nineteen years--tall, dark, and robust. She was possessed of a clear skin, sparkling eyes, and beautiful teeth. She was accomplished, and a leader among the young ladies of her set. Her disposition was frank, kind, and retiring. No wonder that Cobb's eyes often wandered in her direction during that breakfast! It seemed to him that he had never before seen so lovely a face and figure, nor such charming ways as Mollie Craft was mistress of. Yes, there was one face that held just comparison with that before him; there was one figure that matched the symmetry of Mollie Craft; but, alas! she was no more! The queen was dead, but the princess lived! So passed the thoughts in his mind. Adjourning to the President's library, for Mr. Craft loved to have his family about him while he smoked his after-breakfast cigar, the conversation proceeded with animation, but always with Cobb as the central figure. "A Captain in the army, a Colonel up a tree; Quite soon I'll be a Major, as you can plainly see." As the words came forth in a free though quiet manner, a young man entered the door, stopped, and then, bowing, exclaimed: "Pardon me; I did not know that you had company." Junius Cobb looked up; then, starting from his seat with a white and perplexed expression, sprang toward the stranger, who, in astonishment, drew half back through the door. "Hugh Craft! How came you here?" Recovering himself, the man replied, but with embarrassment: "Well! that's very good, indeed! Asking a man what he is doing in his own father's house!" and he gave a quiet, undecided laugh. "Mr. Cobb, my son. Hugh, this is Mr. Junius Cobb; you know who he is," with emphasis on the pronoun.