"Certainly not," responded Miss Chris severely. "The child's as headstrong as a colt. Get that letter off in time for the train, and I'll let Sampson carry it to town."
The general finished his breakfast and went to the old secretary in the library to write his letter. When he had given it to Sampson he came back to Miss Chris, who was washing the teacups in the pantry.
"I s'pose we might as well get her room ready," he suggested. "She may come, anyway, you know."
Miss Chris looked up with a laugh from the delicate saucer she was wiping.
"I know it," she admitted; "and I'll see to her room. But your letter was positive, I hope?"
"Y-e-s," answered the general lamely, and he returned to the Richmond papers with an eager flush in his face.
The next day when Eugenia reached Kingsborough she found the dilapidated carriage awaiting her, with Sampson upon the driver's seat. With an impetuous flutter she threw her arms about the necks of the old horses. "Why, you dear things!" she cried; then she held out her hand to Sampson. "I'm glad to see you, Sampson," she said. "But why didn't papa come to meet me?"
Her animated eyes glanced joyously from side to side and her lips were brimming with the delight of homecoming.
Sampson turned the wheel for her as she got into the carriage, and gave her the linen lap-robe.
"You sho is growed, Miss Eugeny," he observed, and then in reply to her question, "Marse Tom hev got pow'ful stiff-jinted recentelly. Hit seems like he'd ruther sot right still den ease hisse'f outer his cheer. Sence Ole Miss Grissel done drop down dead uv er political stroke, he ain' step 'roun' mo'n he bleeged ter."