Miss Lou, who was dusting the parlor, stole to the further end of the apartment and rattled some ornaments to warn them of her presence. She smiled bitterly as she muttered, "Our wishes; mine will never be consulted." Mrs. Whately entered the parlor and kissed her niece affectionately. She did not like the girl's expression and the difficulty of her task grew clearer. Nevertheless, her heart was more set on the marriage than ever before, since her motives had been strengthened by thought. That her son was bent upon it was one of the chief considerations. "If I obtain for him this prize," she had reasoned, "he must see that there is no love like a mother's." Miss Lou, also, had been unconsciously revealing her nature to the sagacious matron, who felt the girl, if won, would not become a pretty toy, soon wearying her son by insipidity of character. "I know better," the lady thought, "than to agree with brother and sister that Louise is merely wilful and perverse." Feeling that she was incapable of controlling her son, she would be glad to delegate this task to the one who had the most influence over him and who best promised to maintain it. She was not so blind in her indulgence as helpless in it from long habit. She thought that as a wife the girl would not only hold her own, but also do much toward restraining her son in his wild tendencies; but she gave no weight to the consideration often in Miss Lou's mind, "I do not see why everything and everybody should exist for Cousin Mad's benefit." Mrs. Whately secretly approved of Scoville's orders in regard to the wounded, but did not so express herself, resolving not to come into collision again with her relatives unless it was essential. She now went out and assisted the surgical trooper in dressing the men's injuries. Miss Lou had learned that breakfast would be delayed, and so decided to satisfy her hunger partially at Aun' Jinkey's cabin. The excitements of the preceding day had robbed her of all appetite, but now she was ravenous. Her estrangement from her uncle and aunt was so great that she avoided them, having a good deal of the child's feeling, "I won't speak till they make up first." The old negress heard her rapid steps and looked out from her door. "Oh, mammy," cried the girl, "I'm that hungry I could almost eat you, and I don't know when we'll have breakfast." "You des in time, den, honey. Come right in." But Miss Lou paused at the door in embarrassment, for Scoville had risen from the table and was advancing to meet her. "Good-morning, Miss Baron," he said. "Aunt Jinkey and Chunk have prepared me a capital breakfast, and I should be only too delighted to share it. I must be in the saddle soon and so availed myself of the first chance for a meal. Please do not hesitate, for it will probably be my only opportunity of saying good-by." "Dar now, honey, sit right down. Ef Marse Scoville ain' quality den I doan know um."