Zuleime sat down, but looked so anxious, that her very _looks_ worried the old gentleman, and he said— “Don’t you know, girl, that indigestion is very dangerous to a man of my time of life? It may bring on apoplexy! Don’t worry me!” Zuleime veiled her anxious gaze, but even then the paleness of her cheeks annoyed her father, and he testily inquired— “Now, what is it to you? I can understand Carolyn’s anxiety. I cannot comprehend yours at all! There, now. Go and send my wife to me!” Zuleime arose to obey, but before she went, she threw her arms around his neck, and asked— “Dearest father, _only_ tell me! Were our friends well? Have they gone? Did they send any message?” “Only answer you three questions at a time! That is reasonable! However, I can answer all in one. I have not seen our friends. Their detachment left Winchester twelve hours before I reached there. And now I’ll tell you what I did not like to tell Carolyn, poor girl! Namely, that the detachment marched two days earlier than was intended, upon account of dispatches received from Fort ——, praying for speedy succor in a reinforcement. The savages have been massacreing and scalping there at a most tremendous rate! It is really a very dangerous service, Indian warfare! God grant that our young friends may return to us safe! Why don’t you go along and tell Georgia to come to me?” Zuleime kissed her father, settled the cushion under his feet, and went on her errand. That dispatched, she sought her own chamber, and lay down to collect her thoughts. No letter or message from her husband, and her promise of secrecy in regard to her marriage, binding on her as ever. And next week she must give an answer to her father for Major Cabell. She was confident that one of two things had happened. Either her letter had never reached Frank, or else his answer had been lost. And by the transaction only one week’s respite had she gained for her father—for next week her refusal must be decided and final, and then—what might not the consequence be to him? These thoughts excited her mind, and kept her awake. And despite her determination to sleep, and her efforts to do so, she heard every passing hour strike. It was soon after one o’clock that she had fallen into a fitful slumber, when she was awakened by the sound of a gay, high voice, intermingling merry words and joyous laughter. Indeed, there seemed to be not only one, but many voices, talking and laughing in the most jocund manner. And strange—passing strange! it seemed to come from her sister’s room, which adjoined hers! She listened awhile; the words became fewer, but the laughter grew wilder! And then it struck upon her frightened senses that Carolyn was a maniac, talking, laughing to herself! Springing from her bed, and without even waiting to slip on a gown, she ran into the passage and knocked at her sister’s door, and attempted to push it open. It was locked on the inside, and