terrible sick--an' one night Daddy came through, and put her in the
ground, too. But _he_ says she's jus' asleep."

The soldier started. Mrs. Cary dead? This poor tot motherless? He drew
the baby closer to him, stroking her hair, as her sleeping mother might
have done, and waited for the rest.

"An' las' Friday, Sally Ann went away--I don't know where--an'--"

"What?" asked Morrison. "She left you here--all by yourself?"

"Yes, sir," said the child, with a careless laugh. "But _I_ don't mind.
Sally Ann was a triflin' nigger, anyhow. You see--"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted, "what became of the old colored man
who--"

"Uncle Billy? Yes, sir. We sent him up to Richmond--to get some things,
but he can't come back--the Yankees won't let him."

"Won't they?"

"No, sir. An' Daddy's been tryin' to get me up to Richmon', where my
Aunt Margaret lives at, but he can't--'cause the Yankees are up the
river an' down the river, an'--an' everywhere--an' he can't." She
paused, as Morrison turned to her from his restless pacing up and down.
"My, but you've got fine clo'es! Daddy's clo'es are all rags--with--with
holes in 'em."

He could not answer. There was nothing for him to say, and Virgie