With an involuntary shudder she closed her eyes wearily, while Rose anxiously asked of those about her how they should get her home. “Oh, Jake,” she suddenly exclaimed, as, towering above the female heads, she saw her colored coachman looking for her, and remembered that her husband was to call and take her out to ride, “oh, Jake, lift this lady up, careful as you can, and put her in our carriage. Is Will there? Well, no matter, he’ll just have to get out. Stand back, won’t you, and let Jake come,” she continued, authoritatively to the group of ladies who, half-amused and half-surprised at this new phase in Rose Mather’s character, made way for burly Jake, who lifted Annie’s light form as if it had been a feather’s weight, and bore it down the stairs, followed by Rose, who, with one breath, told Annie not to be a bit afraid, for Jake certainly would not drop her, and with the next asked Jake if he were positive and sure he was strong enough not to let her fall. Lazily reclining upon the cushions of his carriage, William Mather was smoking his Havana, and admiring the sleek coat of his iron greys, when Rose appeared, and seizing him by the arm, peremptorily ordered him to alight, and help Jake lift the lady in. “I don’t know who ’tis, but it’s somebody I made faint away with my silly talk,” she replied in answer to Mr. Mather’s question, “Who have you there?” “_You_ made faint away!” he repeated, as he found himself rather unceremoniously landed upon the flagging stones, his Havana rolling at his feet, and his wife preparing to follow Annie, whom Jake had placed inside. “Yes; I talked about her husband’s being a splendid mark for a bullet, and all that, without ever thinking she was his wife. He looked so tall, and big, and nice, that I couldn’t help thinking his head would come above all the rest in a fight, but I don’t believe it will. There Jake, we are ready now, drive on,” said Rose, while poor Annie groaned afresh at this doubtful consolation. “Drive whar?” asked Jake. “I dun know whar they lives.” “To be sure, nor I either,” returned Rose, turning inquiringly to her husband, who gave the information, adding, as he glanced down the street, “Mr. Graham himself is coming, I see. I think, Rose, you had best give your place to him.” Rose, who was fond of adventures, wanted sadly to go with Annie, but George, when he came up, seemed so concerned, and asked so many questions, that she deemed it best to leave it for his wife to make the necessary explanations, merely saying, as she stepped upon the walk, “I am so sorry, Mr. Graham; I really did not mean anything wrong in saying I knew you’d be shot, for you are so——” “Rose, your dress is rubbing the wheel,” interrupted Mr. Mather, by way of diverting Rose from repeating the act for which she was expressing sorrow.