Between April and her mother there was a very deep and true bond of affection; but, when Mrs. May strove to soften her daughter’s bitterness toward the Union, the girl could not forget the fact that Kentucky was largely loyal to the North, and discounted her mother’s opinion as being tinged with Yankee sentiments which a true Georgian could not accept. Thus, while there was no breach in their love for each other, the elder woman realized that circumstances made it impossible for her to ease the blow she believed must some day shatter April’s hopes. And the girl, seeing nothing of the increasing misery outside her own prosperous circle, and hearing only the most optimistic predictions from the scores of young officers who danced attendance upon her whenever the opportunity afforded, grew increasingly confident and was more than ever ready to testify to her loyalty by a resentment toward anything that savored of sympathy for her enemies. Yet out of this well-nigh fanatical spirit unhappiness was bound to come. Already April hid a secret sorrow which sometimes brought tears to wet her pillow ere she went to sleep. The passing of a year changed Harriot but little. She was still a most practical and unsentimental young person who looked upon the procuring of food for herself as the first duty of a growing girl. It was with no surprise, therefore, that Mortality, another of Aunt Decent’s granddaughters, found her, one warm day in the early part of 1864, discreetly screened behind some shrubbery, munching persimmon dates. “Oh, here yoh is!” exclaimed Mortality, flopping down on the grass beside the rustic chair on which Harriot sat. “Ah was a-thinkin’ yoh might know who-all ’tis what’s comin’ in. More refugee-ers, I ’spects.” “Oh, goodness!” cried Harriot, standing up suddenly and peering through the bushes at a rather dilapidated ambulance drawn by two very thin mules which was slowly nearing the house. “If any more people come here I’ll have to sleep in a trundle bed in April’s room.” Harriot’s wail was not without justice. Already the May house was overflowing with less fortunate individuals who had been driven out of their own homes or who were breaking their journeys about the country. The rich planters of the South boasted of their hospitality, and now that war had brought privations to less fortunate friends they felt an added obligation to share all they possessed. Every household that could afford it, sheltered some “refugees,” as those were called who had been forced to forsake their own homes. But this new arrival at the May establishment hardly appeared to be one of these. As Harriot watched, she saw a young girl maneuver her wide hoops through the narrow door of the ancient vehicle and proceed gravely about the business of superintending the disposal of her luggage upon the broad piazza. Then, having paid the driver, the newcomer sat down upon one of her brass-studded boxes with a sigh of relief.