John."

A key clicked in the lock. The door opened, and
the elder of the two women Warwick had
seen upon the piazza stood in the doorway, peering
curiously and with signs of great excitement into
the face of the stranger.

"You 've got a message from my son, you say?"
she asked with tremulous agitation. "Is he sick,
or in trouble?"

"No. He's well and doing well, and sends
his love to you, and hopes you've not forgotten
him."

"Fergot him? No, God knows I ain't fergot
him! But come in, sir, an' tell me somethin'
mo' about him."

Warwick went in, and as the woman closed the
door after him, he threw a glance round the room.
On the wall, over the mantelpiece, hung a steel
engraving of General Jackson at the battle of
New Orleans, and, on the opposite wall, a framed
fashion-plate from "Godey's Lady's Book." In
the middle of the room an octagonal centre-table
with a single leg, terminating in three sprawling
feet, held a collection of curiously shaped sea-shells.
There was a great haircloth sofa, somewhat the