Then she brought two other mementos and hung them also on the wall. One was the sergeant-major's jacket on which she had stitched the chevrons on the day before Manassas. "So you found the old jacket, did you?" asked Baillie. "I kept it as a reminder of you." "Yes--I know. I found it in the little closet where you had hung it. I should have left it there always, just as your hands had placed it, if--if you had not come back to Warlock again." She was weeping now, but her face was joyous in spite of the tears. For had he not come back to her, strong and well and still young? And should not they two find ways in which to meet their present poverty with stout hearts and heads erect? "We must 'look up,' Baillie, 'and not down--forward and not backward.' We have each other left--" "And the boy--_our_ boy!" he interrupted. "Yes, we have enough to live for--enough to enrich our lives to the end. And thanks to you I have courage left both to do and to endure." "Courage? Of course. You could never lose that and still live. It is as vital a part of you as your head itself is." Then she brought the other memento and fastened it into its place. It was a faded red feather. "I have carried that on my person," she said, "ever since that day at Fairfax Court-house when you first told me that you loved me." * * * * * A few months later Marshall Pollard came. He hobbled upon a cork leg which he had not yet learned to use with ease, but the old smile was on his face, the old cheer in his voice. "Agatha," he said, "I should like to occupy my old quarters here during my stay, if I may. You see, Baillie, it is as I told you long years ago--I must ask leave of my lady now. But I don't mind, as my lady happens to be Agatha instead of some other." "And your other prediction is fulfilled, too," answered the master of Warlock, "the prediction that you made out there by the plantation gate. The old life of Virginia is completely gone, the old conditions have been utterly swept away. We can never re-create them. We can never bring the old life back, and perhaps it is better so. We Virginians had for generations lived in the past. Our manner of life and all our conceptions of living were those of a century ago. We had not kept step with progress. We have been rudely shaken out of the lethargic ease that was so delightful and perhaps so bad for us. We are free now to create a new life in tune with that of the modern world. "And we shall do that right manfully. We shall develop the resources of our region, and the South will grow more prosperous than it ever was before. Better still, our children will be educated in the gospel of work, and learn the lesson that was never taught to you and me till war came to teach us, that it is in strenuous endeavour, and not in paralysing ease, that a man finds the greatest happiness in life." "Tell me of your plans, Baillie."