The words had scarcely been uttered when a tap came at the door; a voice said, “May we come in, papa?” and a moment afterward the door opened, and admitted Miss Georgia Conway and her sister Virginia. Miss Georgia was the same tall and superb beauty, with the dark hair and eyes; Miss Virginia the same winning little blonde, with the blue eyes, and the smiles which made her lips resemble rose-buds. The young ladies were clad in poor, faded-looking calicoes, and the slippers on the small feet, peeping from their skirts, were full of holes. Such was the appearance presented in that summer of 1864, my dear reader, by two of the most elegant and “aristocratic” young ladies of Virginia! But you did not look at the calicoes, and soon forgot the holes in the shoes. My bow was such as I should have bestowed on two princesses, and the young ladies received it with a grace and courtesy which were charming. In ten minutes we were all talking like old friends, and the young ladies were making tea. This was soon ready; some bread, without butter, was placed upon the little table; and the meal was the most cheerful and happy imaginable. “Oh, my dear Mr. Blocque!” I could not help saying to myself, “keep your champagne, and canvass-backs, and every luxury, and welcome! I like dry bread and tea, with this company, better!” I have not room to repeat the charming words, mingled with laughter, of the young women, on that evening. Their presence was truly like sunshine, and you could see the reflection of it upon the old statesman’s countenance. Only once that countenance was overshadowed. I had uttered the name of Willie Davenant, by accident; and then all at once remembering the scene at Culpeper Court-House, had looked quietly at Judge Conway and Miss Virginia. A deep frown was on his face--that of the young girl was crimson with blushes, and two tears came to her eyes, as she caught her father’s glance of displeasure. I hastened to change the topic--to banish the dangerous subject; and in a few moments everybody was smiling once more. Miss Georgia, in her stately and amusing way, was relating their experiences from a scouting party of the enemy, at “Five Forks.” “I heard something of this from old Juba,” said the Judge; “you do not mention your deliverer, however.” “Our deliverer, papa?” “General Mohun.” Miss Georgia unmistakably blushed in her turn. “Oh, I forgot!” she said, carelessly, “General Mohun _did_ drive them off. Did I not mention it?--I should have done so before finishing, papa.” As she spoke, the young lady happened to catch my eye. I was laughing quietly. Thereupon her head rose in a stately way--a decided pout succeeded--finally, she burst into laughter. The puzzled expression of the old Judge completed the comedy of the occasion--we all laughed in a perfectly absurd and foolish way--and the rest of the evening passed in the most cheerful manner imaginable.