A carriage was rolling briskly into the drive and in another moment it drew up at the block near the porch. As Mrs. May descended the stranger slipped down from the trunk and went to meet her. “I’m sorry, Aunt Parthenia,” she said precisely. “I fancy I should have waited for an invitation from you, shouldn’t I? But father had to leave so unexpectedly—and even though we had had no answer to our letters he said it would be best for me to come, as he had information that you were still here. If you don’t want me, I suppose I can arrange for another flag of truce to go back under, can’t I?” There was just the shadow of a break in the gentle voice as the strange girl said this; and the crisp pronunciation with its broad “a,” so different from the slow Southern drawl, held a certain appeal that went straight to Mrs. May’s heart. “My dear child, of course you must stay,” she said, taking the young girl in her motherly arms. “You are most welcome but—but, honey, who are you?” CHAPTER III A GLIMPSE OF MR. LINCOLN At Mrs. May’s question the strange girl drew back from the motherly embrace and glanced up at the older woman almost reproachfully. “I should think you would know who I am when I called you ‘Aunt Parthenia,’” she said. “My dear,” Mrs. May hastened to reply, “half of Alabama and nearly all of Georgia call me ‘Aunt Parthenia.’ Between the Mays and the Harriots I have so many connections that I can’t remember them all. Especially those I’ve never seen.” The girl’s face brightened immediately. “I am Dorothea Drummond,” she announced, and with the words the mystery was ended. Once more she was folded in Mrs. May’s arms with a warmth that left no doubt of the affection that prompted it. “Susie’s baby!” Mrs. May exclaimed. “My little sister’s baby! Girls! Girls!” she cried excitedly to her two daughters, “this is your own cousin from England.” “I’m mighty glad you did come to the right place after all!” Harriot burst out, taking her cousin’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “Even though you thought I was a ‘dumby’?” Dorothea laughed back, with a twinkle in her eye. “I never did think so,” Harriot protested, and then turned to Mortality, who was gaping curiously. “Itty, you run to Aunt Decent right off and tell her my cousin, Miss Dorothea, is here, and is as hungry as she can be. We’ll be out presently. Run now. You are hungry, of course,” she went on, addressing Dorothea, as Mortality scampered away. “You’re ’bliged to be, after coming all the way from England.” By this time April had dismissed the carriage and joined them.