"He was sitting by her now, holding her hand in his." She said that over to herself, though it was not hard to understand.
After a long time, her mother came with a candle to the door.
"Good-night, Margret.

Why, your hair is wet, child!" For Margret, kissing her good-night, had laid her head down a minute on her breast.

She stroked the hair a moment, and then turned away.
"Mother, could you stay with me to-night ?" "Why, no, Maggie,--your father wants me to read to him." "Oh, I know.

Did he miss me to-night,--father ?" "Not much; we were talking old times over,--in Virginia, you know." "I know; good-night." She went back to the chair.

Tige was there,--for he used to spend half of his time on the farm.