“Let us help Dorothea, mother,” April proposed, a little excited in anticipation of a look at foreign finery.
“Very well,” Mrs. May agreed and went away regretfully. She, too, was anxious to see if the fashions had changed greatly during the years when the war had cut them off almost wholly from the rest of the world.
Left to themselves the three girls contemplated the fine array of boxes and trunks, which seemed to hold an excessive amount of apparel for one young lady.
“Gracious me!” exclaimed Harriot. “It’s good those two big wardrobes are in this room. You must have a dress for every day in the month.”
“Wait and you’ll see what I have,” Dorothea laughed knowingly. “There are lots of things besides clothes. I had to be very careful about my packing.”
“Why?” demanded the practical Harriot.
“Because the Union army wanted to be sure I wasn’t carrying anything down here that would be useful,” Dorothea explained. “They examine everything, of course. I suspected it would be like the customs house business in Europe, so I prepared.”
“And did they dare to search through everything?” demanded April indignantly.
“No, not everything,” Dorothea answered with a significant emphasis on the last word. “The man who was detailed to look over my luggage was awfully nice. He asked me at once if I had anything in my boxes that would give ‘aid or comfort to the enemy’ and I said, ‘No, sir! because I don’t call an aunt or a cousin an enemy, do you?’ He laughed and remarked he’d heard of those ‘as was enemies and those as wasn’t’; but when I told him I came from England, he looked at all my traps, shook his head and let them go through without much bother. As a matter of fact he fastened bands of white muslin on them with dabs of red sealing-wax to show they were ‘passed packages’—and you know I was just a little disappointed.”
“But why?” demanded Harriot. “If he let them through without mussing everything, I should think you would have been glad.”