_Mattie_ (_dropping paper_). And so at last this cruel war is over, mother. Richmond has fallen, and our brave soldiers are already marching homeward. Only think of it! any day, any hour, may bring back our dear Rob, after four years' absence. Oh! 'twill be a happy return for all of us. _Mrs. T._ For you and me, Mattie, yes. I shall see my brave boy again; you, a noble brother, whose record in the long struggle is spotless. But how will Gaylie receive him? _Mattie._ With open arms, mother: are they not lovers? _Mrs. T._ They parted as lovers: but you know two years ago Wilder Rowell resigned his command, and returned to Grainlow; that from that time he has been a constant visitor to this house; that he is always welcomed by its mistress; that he attends her in all her walks and drives; that she smiles upon him, and evidently delights in his company. You know this, and I know it, and I don't like it. There, I've dropped a stitch! _Mattie._ Why, mother! I really believe you are jealous of Col. Rowell's attentions. Do _you_ doubt Gaylie's affection for us, her love for Brother Rob? _Mrs. T._ Doubt her affection for us? No! Has she not been a dear daughter to me for these years? Has she not made us members of her own household? Have I not had, every day, convincing proofs of her affection? No, no! bless her dear heart, for Mother Trueworth has a warm corner in it. It's only for the boy I fear. Suppose he should come home, and find our Gaylie's heart turned from him, caught by this man whom I don't like, never did like, and never will like. There goes another stitch! _Mattie._ Suppose, suppose! O mother, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! Why, I should no more doubt Gaylie's love for our Rob, than I should doubt— _Mrs. T._ Your love for Hiram Jenks, eh, Mattie? _Mattie._ There's another jealous one! He thinks Mr. Rowell is in love with me, or pretends he does, and continually quarrels with me about him. But we always make up, and I really believe that it's for the pleasure of being reconciled every day that he does it. _Mrs. T._ Ah! Hiram Jenks is a good, honest, smart, reliable young man: so you be careful, and not quarrel too often. There may be a time when there will be no reconciliation. _Mattie._ I'm not afraid of that, mother. He loves me dearly. But I mean to cure him of this folly the very next time he attempts it. _Crimp_ (_outside_). Hi! whar's Missy Gaylie? whar she be? Hallelujum! (_Enters_, C., _running, in a high state of excitement_.) Babylum am fallen! Got a telegram down dar: de boys am coming dis yer night, got mos' home. Der a-lighting up down dar. "Johnny am marching home" double-quick. Yaas, indeed! Whar Miss Gaylie? Hi! lots ob fun. _Mrs. T._ Coming, Crimp, to-night?