Miss Lou soon found her way to the Federal wounded again. While agreeably to her wishes there was no formality in her reception, it was evident that the poor fellows had now learned to regard her with deep affection. "I have told them all," said Dr. Borden who received her, "that you did as Yarry wished, that you took a good rest and were looking this morning as you should, and it has pleased them greatly. Phillips died last night, and has been removed. He hadn't any chance and did not suffer much. Remembering your wishes, we kept Yarry here. He lies there as if he were dozing after his pipe, as he wished you to think." The girl stepped to the side of the dead soldier and for a moment or two looked silently into the still, peaceful face. Quietly and reverently the surgeon and others took off their hats and waited till she should speak. "Oh," she breathed softly at last, "how thoughtful and considerate you have been! You have made this brave, unselfish man look just as if he were quietly sleeping in his uniform. There is nothing terrible or painful in his aspect as he lies there on his side. Poor generous-hearted fellow! I believe he is at rest, as now he seems to be. I want you all to know," she added, looking round, "that he shall be buried where I can often visit his grave and keep it from neglect, for I can never forget the kindness that he--that you all have shown me. Dr. Borden, I will now show Uncle Lusthah the place where I wish the grave to be, and when all is ready I will come and follow poor Yarry to it. Do you think there ought to be a minister? There is one here now--Dr. Williams, who has a church near the Court House." "Just as you wish, Miss Baron. For one, I think a prayer from Uncle Lusthah, as you call him, would do just as well and be more in accordance with Yarry's feelings if he could express them. The old negro has been in and out nearly all night, waiting on the men, and has won their goodwill. He certainly is a good old soul." "I agree with the doctor," added Captain Hanfield. "Were it my case I'd ask nothing better than a prayer from Uncle Lusthah over my grave, for he has acted like a good, patient old saint among us." A murmur of approval from the others followed these words, and so it was arranged. Uncle Lusthah was soon found, and he followed the girl to the shadow of a great pine by the run and adjacent to the grassy plot with which the girl would ever associate Allan Scoville. It was there that she had looked into his eyes and discovered what her own heart was now teaching her to understand. Aun' Jinkey followed them from her cabin and asked, "Wat you gwine ter do yere, honey?" "Bury here a Northern soldier who has done me a very great honor." "Oh, Miss Lou, I des feared ter hab 'im so neah de cabin." "Hush!" said the girl, almost sternly. "Uncle Lusthah, you ought to teach mammy better than that."