“Oh, no. I can just take off my hood and cloak and overshoes here, if you please, and let your maid carry them away. I am dying to tell you all about it. Let us go into that pleasant-looking room, there. I dare say it is your usual sitting-room,” said Elfie, nodding her head toward the open door, while she impatiently tore off her hood and cloak and kicked off her overshoes. “It is our library, and a favorite room with us all,” replied Erminie, pushing the door wider open and leading the way. The room was empty. Colonel Eastworth had left the house soon after Mr. Goldsborough went, and the doctor’s two brothers, Hans and Friedrich Rosenthal, were up in the doctor’s snuggery enjoying a good smoke. Erminie placed chairs round the fire, and the party of four drew up to it. Erminie and her friend sat on one side of the chimney, and the two gentlemen on the other. “First of all, though, have you had breakfast?” inquired Dr. Rosenthal, while Erminie placed her hand upon the bell, ready to ring and give orders. “Oh, yes, thank ye; we had a very good breakfast at the Drover’s,” replied the farmer. “Then tell us all about this affair,” urged the doctor, earnest in his sympathy and eager in his curiosity. “Ask my girl here; she’ll tell ye. She knows a deal more about it than I do,” said the farmer. “Tell us all about it, Elfie, darling,” said Erminie, affectionately. “Oh, don’t you be afraid but what I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve been dying to do so ever since it happened. First, you must know it was all my doings.” “The burning of your father’s house, my dear?” exclaimed Erminie in horror. “No, but the provocation of those who did burn it. The first public act of my life resulted in getting our house burned over our heads! Encouraging, wasn’t it? It was all my fault!” “It was all her glory, she should say, Miss Minie!” put in the farmer. “That’s a mere matter of opinion, pap. The glory or the shame of my act is an open question that will be settled in quite opposite manners by opposing parties. The Secessionist will call it an act of treason! The Unionist will say it is an act of patriotism! The first will call me a wretch; the second will say I am a heroine. All I say about the matter is, that it was all my doings, because I am a self-willed little party, who don’t like contradiction.” “I see I must tell the story myself,” put in the farmer. “Well, I suppose you know there is a pretty strong secesh feeling down there in Virginny?” “I have heard so, I am very sorry to say,” replied the doctor.