“So they do! so they do!” exclaimed the Major, delightedly. “That's just what I said to Molly, sir. And Dan sends his love to the little girls,” he added, smiling upon Betty and Virginia, who stood by. “Thank you, sir,” responded Virginia, prettily, looking at the old man with her dovelike eyes; but Betty tossed her head--she had an imperative little toss which she used when she was angry. “I am only three years younger than he is,” she said, “and I'm not a little girl any longer--Mammy has had to let down all my dresses. I am fourteen years old, sir.” “And quite a young lady,” replied the Major, with a bow. “There are not two handsomer girls in the state, Governor, which means, of course, that there are not two handsomer girls in the world, sir. Why, Virginia's eyes are almost a match for my Aunt Emmeline's, and poets have immortalized hers. Do you recall the verses by the English officer she visited in prison?-- “'The stars in Rebel skies that shine Are the bright orbs of Emmeline.'” “Yes, I remember,” said the Governor. “Emmeline Lightfoot is as famous as Diana,” then his quick eyes caught Betty's drooping head, “and what of this little lady?” he asked, patting her shoulder. “There's not a brighter smile in Virginia than hers, eh, Major?” But the Major was not to be outdone when there were compliments to be exchanged. “Her hair is like the sunshine,” he began, and checked himself, for at the first mention of her hair Betty had fled. It was on this afternoon that she brewed a dye of walnut juice and carried it in secret to her room. She had loosened her braids and was about to plunge her head into the basin when Mrs. Ambler came in upon her. “Why, Betty! Betty!” she cried in horror. Betty turned with a start, wrapped in her shining hair. “It is the only thing left to do, mamma,” she said desperately. “I am going to dye it. It isn't ladylike, I know, but red hair isn't ladylike either. I have tried conjuring, and it won't conjure, so I'm going to dye it.” “Betty! Betty!” was all Mrs. Ambler could say, though she seized the basin and threw it from the window as if it held poison. “If you ever let that stuff touch your hair, I--I'll shave your head for you,” she declared as she left the room; but a moment afterward she looked in again to add, “Your grandmamma had red hair, and she was the beauty of her day--there, now, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” So Betty smiled again, and when Virginia came in to dress for supper, she found her parading about in Aunt Lydia's best bombazine gown. “This is how I'll look when I'm grown up,” she said, the corner of her eye on her sister. “You'll look just lovely,” returned Virginia, promptly, for she always said the sweetest thing at the sweetest time. “And I'm going to look like this when Dan comes home next summer,” resumed Betty, sedately. “Not in Aunt Lydia's dress?”