[Fair seems greatly troubled.

Fair. Somehow I can't help thinking that we shall see him again.

I often wonder if he's changed. He seemed so different from our boys--so very different, somehow.

Bev. I wonder why you never like to walk down through the lane any more? I don't believe you've been down there for a long time, not since Hopkins and Winthrop were here.

Fair (quickly). Oh, yes, I have, lots of times. When Aunt Sally was sick and when Uncle Joe died, don't you remember?

Bev. So you have; but I was thinking of the last walk we took down there. Hopkins and I went off through the woods hunting, and you and Winthrop walked down to the bars and waited for us. 'Twas night when we got back, and you and he were still standing near the bars. The moon made you look so white, I was afraid you were sick. That's why I remember.

Fair (with an effort). Don't let's talk about that any more, will you, Bev?

Bev. Of course; I didn't know you minded. Was that why you didn't want to walk there just now?

Fair (rising). Let's go and look for Charlotte: perhaps she's heard some news.

Bev. I reckon she's in the house; I'll call her.

[He runs towards the house, calling "Charlotte! Charlotte!"

Exit into house.

Fair (sits quietly on the bench looking off before her, greatly troubled). I couldn't, someway I couldn't go there--to-day. Two years ago this night! And yet how long, how terribly long ago it seems! He told me he'd come back. I often wonder why I care: but it was such a happy time!

[Her head sinks wearily down on her arm on the back of the bench, covering her face.

[Enter from the back Col. and Mrs. Stuart. Col. Stuart is a large, handsome, soldierly man of about fifty the typical Southern Colonel. He wears his uniform and walks with a slight limp. Mrs. Stuart is a pretty, dignified, matronly-looking woman, same few years younger than her husband. She is dressed in a simple black dress of good material, that has evidently seen better days. Fair rises quickly, going to them. She places a chair for her father, who sits.

Fair (slipping one arm around his neck and pressing her cheek to his). Dear father, Bev and I were just coming to look for you.

Mrs. S. Did you and Bev go to the mill?

Fair. Yes, to get the meal; and 'twas such fun! I rode on Tony.

And if you could have seen old Cupid when we got back; he thought of course we'd take old Jack.

[She laughs.

Col. S. Dear little girl, what would we do without you? It's hard for us to see you do the work meant for the slaves. You go to mill and help them cook and work and sew; and if you and Charlotte ever grieve or worry--why, we don't find it out.

Fair. Oh, you're praising us too much. We girls can't fight; I sometimes wish we could. But we can work, and when that work's for General Morgan, there's nothing that's too hard for us to do.

Mrs. S. We seem to give so little to the cause; we have so little left, only our work. That's such a comfort to feel we can do something.

When the fighting's near, and all night long we hear the musketry and cannon, and when the thought comes that you and George are going to the front, it seems more than we can bear. I fix a light out there on the front porch, and wonder how the fighting's going on. Bev always stands out by the gate and listens for the sound of firing coming near. 'Tis hard to keep him then, he wants so terribly to fight with you and George. But through those nights that come so often to us now we have our work, and all night long we sit and sew and knit and listen. Oh, then the work's a comfort to feel and know we're doing it for you.

Col. S. And we out there, who fight, are called the heroes.

Fair. Father, must you go to-morrow? The wound can't quite be well. Stay for a few more days. Why, I feel as though I'd hardly seen you for a moment.

Mrs. S. (who has quietly taken his hand in both her own during Fair's last speech). To-morrow, dear, and we should thank G.o.d he can go.

But let's think of to-night; to-morrow's not here yet, and we have still to-night.

Fair (rising, starts to the house). I'll go and look for Bev and Charlotte and bring them here.

[Exit into house.

Mrs. S. (softly, with a great effort). To-morrow--it must be then!

Col. S. To-morrow. (A pause). Yes, then I must go. Word came to us that Morgan's camp was moving on this way, and as we fight in battles there, so must you here. Perhaps before so very long I'll come again, and bring the boys home, too. Why, George is Morgan's right hand man.

They say when Morgan wants a man of special courage, he always calls on George. When you think of all the trust that Morgan puts in him, it ought to make us glad we have our boy to give him.

Mrs. S. Yes, glad; I am glad, Phillip. I'm proud of every way we help the South. And what of Gordon Cabell and Carter Hillary? Are they with Morgan, too?

Col. S. They're Morgan's scouts. They, with five other men, have saved the army more than once. They know the roads for miles and miles.

Sometimes they are away for weeks, and then they turn up with some news that means the life of Morgan's army.

Mrs. S. (looking up). But Phil, the sun has almost set, the dew is falling: we'd best go in. You musn't take a cold and on the last day here.

[They rise.

Col. S. We'll walk down through the garden; we must go there.

Mrs. S. I left that for the last. I knew you wanted to go down to--the grave.

Col. S. (quiet for a moment, then with an effort). He loved this home, didn't he, mother?

Mrs. S. Yes, he was very happy here. That tree near by the gate--the one we call "Phil's tree"--is the place I love best now.

[She takes his hand and quietly they exit (Right) by gate leading to graveyard.

[Enter from the house Aunt Marthy with a small bell in in her hand. She looks about as though to ring the bell. Stops, as she glances toward the graveyard.

Aunt M. Dey's down dar by Mars Phil's grave. I know'd dey'd go dar las' thing, fo' de come in fo' de night. 'Pears like Mistis got ter go dar every evenin' 'bout sunset. 'Pears like hit comfort her mightily, arter she set dar fer a while by de grave and smove down the gra.s.s wid her hands and spred out de fresh flowers she bring him. It seems like she happier den she bin all day. She just come out smilin' ter herself, like she ant smile since fo' de war brek out. I reckon de supper kin wait.

[Exit by side of the house.

[Enter from the house Fair, Bev, and Charlotte Hillary. She is a young girl of some twenty-two or three years, tall, slender, and very pretty, with somewhat premature dignity.

She is dressed in a soft blue cotton dress, much like Fair's. She enters smiling and evidently inspired by the gay mood of Fair and Bev.

Charlotte (laughing). So I'm to be told the great secret, am I?

What can it be? A new dress for Fair, or have some of your soldier friends made you happy with some trophy of the fight. Bev?

Fair. She came near it, didn't she, Bev? But you couldn't really guess, not if you tried all night.

Bev. Remember you promised not to say a word to any one.

Char. I promise. But really I can't wait another minute; do tell me, quick.

Bev (who is searching behind a bush near the house). I say, Fair, where'd you put it? 'Twas here last night.

Fair. I found Cupid digging round that bush and I knew he'd find it and tell, so I hid it here. (She reaches under the steps, drawing out a small paper parcel. She unrolls the paper, drawing out the half finished coat of a boy's uniform. It is made from pale-blue flannel, very soft, and evidently from some dress of her own. The armlets are embroidered in red cotton). Here it is. Now guess, Charlotte, before we tell you?