“I have brought up my chillum respectable which it is allus my pride and ambition so to do, and likewise to have them engaged in service long o’ the old respectable, rustycratic families, which none can be more so than the Lyonses of Old Lyon Hall, and that to _my_ sartain knowledge, which has heard of them ever since I was born,” said mammy, on parting with her gossip, Marcy. “And I hopes, ma’am,” she added, “if you sees my young people agoing wrong, you’ll make so free for my sake as to correct them; which their missus, the young madam, is much too gentle-hearted for to do; but gives them their own head far too much.” Marcy gave a promise to have an eye upon the boy and girl—a promise she was but too likely to keep. And so mammy departed, well pleased. The very day she left, the wagons from Washington City, containing Drusilla’s personal effects from Cedarwood, which had been delayed by the bad condition of the roads, arrived at Saulsburg. General Lyon, being duly apprised of the circumstance by a messenger from the “Foaming Tankard,” sent carts to meet them. But more than one day was occupied with the removal. For Alexander Lyon, either from pride, compunction, or a faint revival of the old love, or from all these motives combined, had sent down not only Drusilla’s wardrobe and books, but every article of furniture that particularly appertained to her use. And all these were very carefully packed, so as to sustain no injury from the roughness of the roads over which they were brought. There was first a whole wagon load of boxes filled with the rich and costly wearing apparel with which he had overwhelmed her in the days of his devotion. Then there was another load composed of her mosaic work-table, sewing chair, and footstool; her enameled writing-desk, work-box and dressing-case; her favorite sleepy hollow of a resting-chair; and other items too numerous to mention. The third load comprised her sweet-toned cottage piano, her harp, and her guitar. It took two days to transport these things from Saulsburg to Old Lyon Hall, and it took two more days to unpack and arrange them all in Drusilla’s apartments. The fond and faithful young wife contemplated these dear familiar objects with a strange blending of tenderness, regret and hope. Each item was associated with some sweet memory of her lost home and lost love. But even now she did not weep; she smiled as she whispered to her heart: “He does not know it, but he loves me still; and some day he will come and tell me so. I can wait for that bright day, Alick, my Alick, when I shall place my boy in your arms and tell you how in the darkest hours I never ceased to love you and never doubted your love!” She was absorbed for a little while, and then once more she murmured to herself in her beautiful reverie: “For what would love be if darkness could obscure its light, or wrong destroy its life?”