Mr. and Mrs. Baron had retired to the parlor, where they sat in state, awaiting in gloomy fortitude the darker developments of what they deemed the supreme tragedy of their lives. Miss Lou was flitting in and out, getting lint and other articles required by Mrs. Whately. She found it no easy matter to maintain the solemnity of aspect which her guardians thought appropriate to the occasion, but was assisted in this effort by her genuine pity for the wounded. In her joyous relief at escape from a hated union her heart was light indeed. She had, moreover, no slight sense of humor, and was just bubbling over with mirth at the fact that although the Yankee monsters, from whom it was said she must be rescued at every cost, were masters of the situation, they were engaged in nothing more ruthless than feeding their horses, preparing supper, and caring for the wounded. The most delicious thing of all was that one of the chief prophets of evil, her Aunt Whately, was aiding in the last-named task. Her exultation was increased when she brought the last article required and Scoville said with his genial smile, so well remembered, "I think I can assure you now, Miss Baron, that all will do very well. We are deeply indebted to this lady (bowing to Mrs. Whately) whose services have been as skilful as humane." Now one of the things on which Mrs. Whately most prided herself was the generally accepted belief that she was as good as a country physician in an emergency, and she could not refrain from a slight and gracious acknowledgment of Scoville's words. As they drew near to the door she said hesitatingly, "Perhaps, sir, I should make an acknowledgment of deep indebtedness to you. I saw your sabre raised and pointed at my son's throat. Could you not have killed him had you so wished?" "Ah! this is Mrs. Whately. Believe me, madam, we are not so bloodthirsty as to wish to kill, or even to injure, except so far as the necessities of war require. If you witnessed the brief conflict you must have observed that my effort was to capture rather than to destroy your son's force." "We all could not help seeing that," cried Miss Lou eagerly. "I could not help seeing also, Miss Baron, that you exposed yourself to danger like a veteran, and I was anxious indeed lest a stray bullet might harm you. It was well you were not armed or we might have fared worse," and there was so much mirth in his dark eyes that she turned away to hide her conscious blushes. "Well, sir," resumed Mrs. Whately with emotion, "it is not easy to bless our enemies in this cruel war of aggression, but I must express my gratitude to one who stayed his hand when my son's life was within his power." "I trust, madam, he may live to care for you in your declining years, and to become a good loyal citizen." "He is loyal, sir," replied Mrs. Whately with gentle dignity, "to the only authority he recognizes," and with a bow she retired.