any another like deed had she done; always with the entire approval of her husband, who was scarcely less generous than herself.

The purchaser of Fairview was a Mr. Leland, a northern man who had been an officer in the Union army. Pleased with the southern climate and the appearance of that section of country, he felt inclined to settle there and assist in the development of its resources; he therefore returned some time after the conclusion of peace, bought this place, and removed his family thither.

They were people of refinement and culture, quiet and peaceable, steady attendants upon Mr. Wood's ministry, and in every way conducted themselves as good citizens.

Yet they were not popular: the Fosters, particularly Wilkins, the only son, hated them as their supplanters, and saw with bitter envy the rapid improvement of Fairview under Mr. Leland's careful cultivation. It was no fault of his that they had been compelled to part with it, and he had paid a fair price: but envy and jealousy are ever unreasonable; and their mildest term of reproach in speaking of him was "carpet-bagger."

Others found fault with Mr. Leland as paying too liberal wages to the negroes (including Mr. Horace Dinsmore and Mr. Travilla in the same charge), and hated him for his outspoken loyalty to the Government; for though he showed no disposition to seek for office or meddle in any way with the politics of others, he made no secret of his views when occasion seemed to call for their expression. It was not a prudent course under existing circumstances, but accorded well with the frank and fearless nature of the man.

Messrs. Dinsmore and Travilla, themselves strong Unionists, though the latter was more discreet in the utterance of his sentiments, found in him a kindred spirit. Rose and Elsie were equally pleased with Mrs. Leland, and pitying her loneliness, called frequently, inviting a return of their visits, until now the three families had become tolerably intimate.

This state of things was extremely displeasing to Louise and Enna; scarcely less so to their father; but the others, convinced that they were in the path of duty in thus extending kindness and sympathy to deserving strangers, who were also "of the household of faith," were not to be deterred by remonstrances or vituperation. "Scalawags"—a term of reproach applied by the Democrats of the South to the Republicans, who were natives of that section—was what Enna called her brother, his son-in-law and daughter, when out of hearing of her father, who though vexed at their notice of the Lelands, was too strongly attached to his only remaining son, and too sensible of the kindness he had received at the hands of Mr. Travilla and Elsie, to permit anything of that sort.

The Lelands had several young children, well-bred and of good principles, and it angered Louise and Enna that Elsie evidently preferred them to their own rude, deceitful, spoiled offspring as companions and playmates for her little ones.

Elsie and her husband were very desirous to live on good terms with these near relatives, but not to the extent of sacrificing their children's morals; therefore did not encourage a close intimacy with their Roselands cousins; yet ever treated them politely and kindly, and made a valuable present to each on every return of his or her birthday, and on Christmas; always managing to select something specially desired by the recipient of the favor.

Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore pursued a similar course; Rosie was allowed to be as intimate as she chose at Ion, and with her Aunt Sophie's children, but never visited Roselands except with her parents or sister; nor were the Roseland cousins ever invited to make a lengthened stay at the Oaks.

One afternoon, several weeks subsequent to the events related in the last chapter, Mary and Archie Leland came over to Ion to spend an hour with their young friends.

The weather was delightful, and the children preferred playing out of doors; the girls took their dolls to a summer-house in the garden, while with kite, ball and marbles, the boys repaired to the avenue.

"Who are those?" asked Archie, as looking up at the sound of approaching footsteps he saw two boys, a good deal older than themselves, coming leisurely toward them.

"My cousins, Wal Conly and Dick Percival," answered Eddie. "I wish they hadn't come, they always tease me so."

"Hilloa!" cried Dick, "what! Ed Travilla, you play with carpet-baggers, eh? fie on you! I wouldn't be seen with one."

"That's not polite, Dick. Archie's a good boy; mamma and papa says so; and I like him for a playfellow."

"You do? ah, that's because you're a scalawag."

"What's that?"

"What your father is and your grandfather too."

"Then I don't care; I want to be just like my papa."

"But it isn't nice," put in Walter, laughing, "a scalawag's the meanest thing alive."

"Then you shall not call papa that, nor grandpa!" and the child's great dark eyes flashed with anger.

"Whew! I'd like to see you hinder me. Look here, Ed," and Dick pulled out a pistol, "what d'ye think o' that? don't you wish you had one? don't you wish you could shoot?"

"I can," returned Eddie, proudly, "papa's been teaching me, and he's given me a better pistol than that."

"Hey! a likely story!" cried the two tormentors, with an incredulous laugh. "Let's see it now?"

"It's in the house, but papa said I should never touch it 'cept when he gives it to me; not till I grow a big boy."

"Nonsense!" cried Dick, "if 'twas there, you'd bring it out fast enough. I sha'n't believe a word of the story until I see the pistol."

"I'll show you if I'm not telling the truth;" exclaimed Eddie, flushing hotly, and turning about as if to go into the house.

But Archie laid a hand on his arm, and speaking for the first time since the others had joined them, "Don't, Eddie," he said persuasively, "don't disobey your father; I know you'll be sorry for it afterwards."

"Hold your tongue, you young carpet-bagger," said Dick. "Run and get it,
Ed."

"No, never mind about his pistol, he can't shoot," said Walter, mockingly. "If he can, let him take yours and prove it."

Eddie remembered well that his father had also forbidden him to touch firearms at all, except when with him; but the boy was naturally proud and wilful, and spite of all the careful training of his parents, these faults would occasionally show themselves.

He did not like to have his word doubted, he was eager to prove his skill, which he conceived to be far greater than it was, and as his cousins continued to twit and tease him, daring him to show what he could do, he was sorely tempted to disobey.

They were slowly walking on farther from the house as they talked, and finally when Dick said, "why, Ed, you couldn't hit that big tree yonder, I dare you to try it," at the same time offering him the pistol, the little fellow's sense of duty suddenly gave way, and snatching the weapon from Dick's hand, he fired, not allowing himself time, in his haste and passion, to take proper aim.

In their excitement and pre-occupation, none of the boys had noticed Mr. Travilla riding into the avenue a moment before, closely followed by his body servant Ben. Almost simultaneously with the report of the pistol the former tumbled from the saddle and fell heavily to the ground.

With a cry, "O, Mass Edard's killed!" Ben sprang from his horse and bent over the prostrate form, wringing his hands in fright and grief. He was his master's