"I kin ’member it, Miss Calline. Thank you, ma’am!" Mrs. Barnwell subsequently got a message from Sam to the effect that "Miss Calline sed she’d ’a’ had to walk her own self ef Mrs. Barnwell hadn’t ’a’ sont de ca’yall." Which is about as accurate as any message can be after going through the brain of a negro. Finally it was time to go to the train. Carolina had no fear that the train carrying the car of a president of a Northern road would be late, so she hurried Rosemary and Lionel and Cousin Lois into her big blue French touring-car, and started. As they sped down the great avenue, Carolina looked back at Guildford, as a mother looks back at her first-born child. There rose the beautiful house, just as the strangers would get their first glimpse of it; for the last time the Howards came South, only a dim idea of it could have been obtained. There was not a hint of frost as yet. Late roses bloomed riotously in the garden, which Carolina had been tending for the last eight months with a view to this very day. She had planned well. She did not intend to have a rebuilt Guildford look down upon patches of brown earth, remains of mortar beds, and broken-down shrubbery. Every day she had cautioned the workmen against destroying any of her outdoor work, and, as fast as she could, she had made the gardens, the lawns, and the hedges keep pace with the builders, so that everything might be completed practically at the same time. A dozen black forms were hurrying hither and thither, bent on carrying out "lill mistis’s last orders." The quarters glistened in the sunshine, even the dogs asleep on the steps were just as Carolina had pictured Guildford in her childish dreams in Paris. It was a very excited little group which stood on the tiny platform at Enterprise, waiting for the train. Finally, only half an hour late, its warning whistle sounded, and scarcely had the brakes squeaked, when Mr. Howard sprang from the forward end of the rear car, followed by--Doctor Colfax! Carolina could scarcely believe her eyes. She did not speak. She only went with outstretched hands to meet her friends, and something in the way Doctor Colfax looked at her hinted at some great change. Then Mrs. Goddard followed, and, even in the excitement of placing her people in the proper vehicles, and in the midst of unanswered questions and unlistened-to replies, Carolina noticed that Doctor Colfax hovered near Mrs. Goddard. She wondered if he remembered the last thing he said about her. But, oh, the joy of seeing them friends! Addie was wonderfully friendly. She kissed Carolina quite affectionately, and told her that Kate Howard had succeeded in curing her neuralgia, to which Carolina knew Addie had been a slave for years. Addie’s children, Cynthia and Arthur, were wild with delight. It was the first time they ever had been South, and to leave snow in New York on one day and see roses blooming the next was more than their young imaginations could stand.