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 Mehitable limped to a chair that was pushed against the wall near her. And there Charity, who was coming anxiously down the stairs, saw her. Charity gave a little shriek of joy and, running the rest of the way, threw herself upon her knees beside her sister.

"Oh, Hitty, wherever have you been? How worried I have felt!" she half sobbed.

Quickly, in a low voice, Mehitable told her what had happened, and the younger girl's sweet face flushed with anger.

"Why, how did Squire Briggs dare!" she exclaimed, with flashing eyes.

"Hush!" answered Mehitable faintly. Tis war, Cherry!" She leaned back with closed eyes.

The little sister stood studying her anxiously.

"I know, Hitty," she said at last, brightening. "An you could walk as far as the kitchen you could get warm, and Aunt Tivvy will give you some supper."

Mehitable stumbled to her feet and with Charity's help entered the great kitchen, which was in a rear wing. There a scene of utmost activity was taking place. Before the fire three spits, on which were roasting turkeys, were being turned and watched by a grinning Negro lad. Other servants were coming and going in the direction of the dining room, while Aunt Tivvy, a fat, smiling-faced old negress, kept watchful eyes upon the heavily laden trays which were being constantly carried to the company within.

"Ki, honey, what's de mattah?" exclaimed Aunt Tivvy in concern, as she caught sight of Mehitable's pale face. Charity explained in a few swift words and,