There were pitying glances among the group, at this little burst of feeling, for in some way it was an echo of their own; and Lena Seymour added tenderly: "We have been trying for these two months to convince "Mammy" about this, but she is firm in her faith and sometimes refuses to hear us." But the subject changed with "How many cases did you lose in this epidemic, Mammy?" "I didn't lose no cases! Lor' bless you, honey, I doesn't lose cases if dey hasn't been killed afore dey gets to me; folks needn't die of yellow fever." We didn't suppose that "Mammy" intended any reflection upon the medical fraternity. "But now, friends, we must turn to our settlement, which cannot be difficult. Three dollars a day for each nurse, for seventy-nine days, till you are home on Thanksgiving morning. But here are only ten. There are eighteen on our list who left with you and Colonel Southmayd; where are your comrades?" Some eyes flashed and some moistened, as they answered, "We do not know." "They remained in the car that night, and went on to Jacksonville." Swift, dark glances swept from one to another among them. Instinctively they drew closer to each other, and over knitted brows and firmly set teeth, a silence fell dark and ominous like a pall, which the future alone can lift. The bugle sounded dinner, and this ended our little camp-meeting, than which, few camp-meetings we believe, ever came nearer to the heart of Him who offered His life a ransom, and went about doing good. The winds blew cold across the camp; the fires shot out long angry tongues of flame and drifts of smoke to every passer-by. The norther was upon us. Night came down, and all were glad of shelter and sleep. The morning, quiet, crisp, and white with frost, revealed the blessing which had fallen upon a stricken land. Thanksgiving was there before its time. The hard rules relaxed. One day more, and the quarantine was at an end. The north-bound train halted below the camp, and all together, president and agent, tall doctor and happy nurses, took places on it. The first for headquarters at Washington, the last for New Orleans, and home for Thanksgiving morning, full of the joys of a duty well done, rich in well-paid labor in the love of those they had befriended and the approval of a whole people south and north when once their work should be known to them. To the last they clung to their little home-made Red Crosses as if they had been gold and diamonds; and when at length, the tracks diverged and the parting must be made, it was with few words, low and softly spoken, but meaning much; with a finger touch upon the little cross, "When you want us, we are there." The fever spread during the fall to several points in Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi, and resulted in the usual panic and flight from many places; but happily the disease got no great headway before the frost put an end to its career.