“In the first place, I know of no state secrets whatever. And in the second, I fear no betrayal of confidence on the part of Alberta,” said Erminie, holding out her hand in pledge of trust to her sorrowing visitor. Alberta took it and held it tightly for a few moments, while an inexplicable expression of something like prophetic remorse overshadowed her countenance. “Don’t mind Elfie, dear. She is rightly named. She is an elf—a tricky spirit. She mocks at everything, even, alas! at her own father!” said Erminie. “I do not heed her since you trust me,” replied Alberta. “I am expecting Britomarte every moment; and when she comes, we four, who used to be called the ‘Belles of Bellemont,’ and to be inseparable companions, will be together once more—be together for the first time since that happy summer we spent at your father’s lovely home, ‘The Rainbows.’” “That happy summer before the war. Oh! Heaven! ‘Sorrow’s crown of sorrow is the memory of happier days,’” said the guerrilla’s wife, mournfully. “Be comforted. You are young yet, and the happy days may return again,” said Erminie, kindly. “My father’s home is desolate; his household goods broken and scattered. Federals and Confederates have occupied his house and ravaged his land in turn. The forests have been levelled, the crops swept away, the cattle driven off, and fences and buildings destroyed! Desolate! desolate! all is desolate there!” said Alberta, in a sepulchral tone. “All have suffered something in this awful war, Alberta. But peace will come again, and all will be well——I wonder why Britomarte don’t make her appearance? I do not think I can wait for her any longer. We will have tea, and then you shall go to my chamber and sleep with me, and tell me all your troubles, as you used to do when we were girls at school together,” murmured Erminie. And she rang the bell and ordered the tea brought in there. “Britomarte? I read a very strange account of her having been shipwrecked upon a desert island in the Indian Ocean, and rescued thence by one of your ships of war. Was it true?” “It was all true—every word of it,” said Erminie. “Why do you say ‘your’? Why do you not say _our_ ships of war, since you have taken the oath of allegiance in good faith, and are really one of us?” dryly questioned Elfie. “Force of habit, I repeat,” replied Alberta. “Oh, Elfie! Elfie! do mind what you are saying!” pleaded Erminie. “Don’t distress yourself, Minie! She means well, but she mistakes me; that is all,” said Alberta, resignedly. The tea service was brought in and arranged upon the neat table. And the three young women seated themselves at it. Erminie presided over the urn. “Do you know, Erminie, that this is the first blessed cup of tea that I have tasted for more than a year?” said Alberta, as she raised the fragrant Oolong to her lips. “Oh! what a privation! but you had coffee?” said Erminie. “No, nor chocolate!” “But how was that?”