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 gested Mehitable, trudging along with her head bent before the whirlwind of snow that drifted up the lane toward them.

"Aye." Charity's voice was doubtful. Presently she added, "But I like not visiting strange young men, Hitty!"

"Oh, Cherry, when he be ill and wounded!" exclaimed the more sociable Mehitable. "Fie, suppose it were Young Cy!" And she turned to look over her shoulder at the other.

Charity, plodding behind her sister with down-bent head, did not see the mischief lurking in Mehitable's dark eyes, and she answered her remorsefully, her tender heart instantly touched.

"You are right, Hitty! I do feel ashamed!"

They were admitted to the Ford residence by the Negro doorman, and asking for Mistress Thompson were directed to a little rear room back of the dining room. There they found the lady poring over her accounts. She greeted them kindly and pushed back her papers with a rueful laugh.

"Nay, I am glad to be interrupted!" she exclaimed in answer to Mehitable's apology, Tis a task, to make army rations serve a general's table. My poor head be aweary trying to stretch portions and menus! Master Timothy?" she added, in response to Mehitable's inquiry. "Ah, this be one of his bad days, my child. I fear his mother will