are associated with everything that memory holds dear, and so long as memory proves faithful, it is but natural that I should sigh to see them once more."
"But they have forgotten you. They are too selfish to give a single thought to you, now that you no longer are their slave."
"Perhaps so, but I cannot believe it. You do not know the Southern people as welL as I do—how warm is the attachment between master and slave."
My Northern friends could not understand the feeling, therefore explanation was next to useless. They would listen with impatience, and remark at the close, with a shrug of the shoulders, "You have some strange notions, Lizzie."
In the fall of 1865 a lady called on me at my apartments in "Washington. Her face looked familiar, but I could not place her. When I entered the room, she came towards me eagerly:
"You are surprised to see me, I know. I am
