“Yes, Jim has gone. He went two weeks ago, and I was rather glad he went,” said Mrs. Cary. “He had never been quite the same since the Yankees came through; you know he behaved very badly then. He had changed more than almost anyone of them who remained. He had been preaching a good deal lately, and appeared to be stirring the others up more than I liked. There seemed to have been some influence at work among them that I could not understand. It was said that Mr. Still, Helen’s manager—But I don’t know,”—she broke off. “I heard them one night, at the house, and went out to the church where they were, and found them in a great state of excitement. They quieted down when I appeared. That repulsive creature, Mr. Gray’s Moses, was there, and I ordered him home, and gave them a talk, and the next morning Jim Sherwood was missing too, and a few days later Jane said that she had to go also. I told them they were free, but if they remained here they must observe my regulations. I put Gideon in charge and told him you would look to him to keep order till you came. And he has done so to the best of his ability, I believe. I hear that he gave Jim Sherwood to understand that he would have no more of his preaching here for the present, and that if he wanted to preach for Hiram Still he could go to Red Rock and do it, not here. And now you are here, this is the end of my stewardship, and I surrender it into your hands.” She made her husband, half-mockingly, a profound curtsey—perhaps to turn off the serious thoughts which her words called up. But the Doctor declared that, at least, one of her slaves recognized too well the blessing of servitude to such a mistress to wish for freedom, and that he declined to assume control. “Why, Bess, we men fought a quarter of the war and you women fought three-quarters. Do you imagine we want to depose you?” Just then a young girl came around the corner of the house, her dark eyes full of light; her hair blown back from her forehead by the morning breeze, and her hands full of jonquils and other early flowers. Her face was glowing with the exercise she has been taking, and her whole person was radiant with youth. “The morn is breaking. Here comes Aurora,” said her father, gazing at her fondly, at which Miss Blair’s cheeks glowed only the more. It was proposed by the Doctor that they should invite to dinner such of their friends as had arrived at home and could be reached. “Our first reunion,” said Mrs. Cary, smiling, and she began to give what she called her ménu, in which, corn-bread, dried fruit, black-eyed pease, and welcome figured as the principal dishes. She laughed at her husband’s dumb amazement. “Bess,” said the Doctor, humbly, “I retract what I said a little while ago about our having fought a fourth of the war—it was the speech of a braggart.” And having followed her with his eyes, as she went into the house, he walked around to have a talk with his negroes.