One afternoon when the Colonel came in from the chicken yard where he and Uncle Jimpson had constituted themselves a salvage corps, he surprised Miss Lady sitting in the dusk on the floor before the empty fireplace, with suspicious traces of tears upon her face.
“Make a light,” blustered the Colonel; “you mustn't sit around in the dark like this, you know. Where's my pipe?”
She sprang up and found the missing article, and with a great show of cheerfulness lit the lamp and held the match out for him to light his pipe.
“What's the matter?” asked the Colonel; “sort of trembly, ain't you?”
“Me? Watch me!” She held the match very straight and very tight, then as it wavered, blew it out and dropped it down his sleeve. “There's some mail over there on the table for you, Daddy dear. Noah brought it down from town in his buggy.”
She said it very carelessly, and even enumerated the contents as she handed it to him:
“Two circulars, a letter from the seed man, the Confederate Veteran and the newspapers.”
“Nothing for you?”
“Nothing.”
Under his scrutiny Miss Lady's eyes fell, and she turned abruptly to the window, while the Colonel, mouth open, pipe in hand, watched her.