Anna raised her eyes and saw, at the opposite end of the room, in a recess filled with row above row of blooming flowers, this group:
Alexander was reclining in an easy chair, holding in his right hand a small volume, from which he was reading in a subdued voice, and encircling with his left arm the shoulders of his “child,” who was sitting on a low seat beside him. His eyes were on his book, but hers were on him. Forgetting her timidity, forgetting herself, her inspired face was raised to his, with glowing crimson lips apart, and slender black eyebrows arched, and large, starry eyes fixed on him, as she listened breathlessly to his words. He finished a sentence, and then turned to speak to her. And instantly her eyes fell, and her color rose even to her brows.
“Yes, I see; if she were a little older, or I a little more in love, I should be jealous,” thought Anna within herself. But she said nothing.
At the end of Christmas holidays Drusilla was sent back to school.
Anna, under the charge of old Mrs. Lyon, did a vast deal of shopping in the city, besides sending to New York for articles that could not be procured in Richmond.
When all this was done, she returned with her grandfather to Old Lyon Hall, where they were soon to be joined by the judge and Mrs. Lyon, and Mr. Alexander, for the wedding.
The day after the general and his grand-daughter left, Mrs. Lyon said to Mr. Alexander:
“Alick, Anna wishes little Drusilla to be her sixth bridesmaid.”
“I object to that. The girl is too young to have marrying and giving in marriage running in her head.”
“Nonsense, Alick, you can’t keep this affair out; of course she knows you and Anna are about to be married.”