MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
Daylight overtook us in a little cove whence we could look forth on the narrow valley, and the earliest rays of the sun fell on the scattered buildings representing the plantation of Fairview, perhaps two miles distant. My eyes were heavy from groping so long through the night, yet, in that clear mountain air, every line assumed the distinctness of an etching. It was a noble old house, painted white, and standing somewhat elevated upon a considerable knoll, the red sun rays reflecting from every eastward window. In front, and shading the main entrance from view, stood a grove of magnificent trees, the variety of their foliage indicating a number of species. An extensive garden and orchard, with many beds of flowers, and numerous vines trained upon trellises, all protected by a heavy, trimmed hedge, extended along the eastern side, running well back even beyond the length of the main building, while to the rear were the barn and stables, all commodious, and a long row of respectable negro cabins extended along the front of a grove somewhat farther to the west. The entire scene was home-like and attractive, the main house glowing in its white paint, the other buildings equally neat, but decorated with darker colors. Evidently war had thus far passed by this isolated home, bringing to it no outward damage; even some of the negro slaves still remained at work, for I could perceive figures already moving about those distant log huts as if preparing for a day's ordinary labor. Out of the broad chimney over the kitchen ell of the great house a heavy spiral of yellow smoke was rising upward into the blue sky.
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