"Very well, dear," she said, passing one arm around his neck and leaning forward over the flag. The sun was dipping between a cleft in the hills, flinging out long rosy beams across the misty valley. The mocking birds had ceased, but a thrasher was singing in a tangle of Cherokee roses under the western windows. While they stood there the sun dipped so low that nothing remained except a glowing scarlet rim. "Hark!" whispered the boy. Far away an evening gunshot set soft echoes tumbling from hill to hill, distant, more distant. Strains of the cavalry band rose in the evening silence, "The Star Spangled Banner" floating from the darkening valley. Then silence; and presently a low, sweet thrush note from the dusky garden. It was after supper, when the old darky had lighted the dips--there being no longer any oil or candles to be had--that the thrush, who had been going into interminable ecstasies of fluty trills, suddenly became mute. A jingle of metal sounded from the garden, a step on the porch, a voice inquiring for Mr. Westcote; and old Mose replying with reproachful dignity: "Mars Wes'cote, suh? Mars Wes'cote daid, suh." "That's my friend, the general!" exclaimed Billy, leaping from his chair. "Mose, you fool nigger, why don't you ask the general to come in?" he whispered fiercely; then, as befitted the master of the house, he walked straight out into the hall, small hand outstretched, welcoming his guest as he had seen his father receive a stranger of distinction. "I am so glad you came," he said, crimson with pleasure. "Moses will take your cap and cloak-- Mose!" The old servant shuffled forward, much impressed by the uniform revealed as the long blue mantle fell across his own ragged sleeve. "Do you know why I came, Billy?" asked the bandmaster, smiling. "I reckon it was because you promised to, wasn't it?" inquired the child. "Certainly," said the bandmaster hastily. "And I promised to come because I have a brother about your age--'way up in New York. Shall we sit here on the veranda and talk about him?" "First," said the boy gravely, "my sister Celia will receive you." He turned, leading the way to the parlor with inherited self-possession; and there, through the wavering light of a tallow dip, the bandmaster saw a young girl in black rising from a chair by the center table; and he brought his spurred heels together and bowed his very best bow. "My brother," she said, "has been so anxious to bring one of our officers here. Two weeks ago the Yan--the Federal cavalry passed through, chasing Carrington's Horse out of Oxley Court House, but there was no halt here." She resumed her seat with a gesture toward a chair opposite; the bandmaster bowed again and seated himself, placing his sabre between his knees. "Our cavalry advance did not behave very well in Oxley," he said. "They took a few chickens _en passant_," she said, smiling; "but had they asked for them we would have been glad to give. We are loyal, you know."