Unity sighed with the oppression of it all.

The flowers were withering in her lap.

After a long hour the road turned, discovering yellow wheat-fields and shady orchards, the gleam of a shrunken stream and a brick house embowered in wistaria.

Around the horse-block and in the shade of a great willow were standing a coach or two, a chaise, and several saddle-horses.

"All of them Republican," commented Unity.
At the door she was met by Cousin Jane Selden herself, a thin and dark old lady with shrewd eyes and a determined chin.