"Perhaps you don't reflect that it takes a good deal out of our pockets," remarked her father. "Several hundred thousand from yours."
"Yes, papa, I know; but we will not be very poor. I alone have enough left to keep us all comfortably. If I were only sure it would add to the happiness of my poor people, I should rejoice over it. But I am sorely troubled to know what has, or will become of them. It is more than two years now, since we have heard a word from Viamede."
"It is very likely we shall find nothing but ruins on all our plantations—Viamede, the Oaks, Ion, and Roselands," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, pacing to and fro with an anxious and disturbed countenance.
"Let us hope for the best," Mr. Travilla responded cheerfully; "the land will still be there, perhaps the houses too; the negroes will work for wages, and gradually we may be able to restore our homes to what they were."
"And if the war stops now, we shall probably find them still in pretty good condition," said Elsie.
"No," her father said, "the war is not at an end, or likely to be for a long time to come; but we will wait in patience and hope, daughter, and not grieve over losses that perhaps may bring great happiness to others."
"Are we poor now, papa?" asked Horace anxiously.
"No, son; your sister is still very wealthy, and we all have comfortable incomes."
"It did me good to see Uncle Joe's delight over the news," Mr. Travilla smilingly remarked to his wife.
"Ah, you told him then?" she returned, with a keen interest and pleasure.