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THE COMING OF MISS CAROLINE
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"Be fair," I said; "did I not drink your toast?"

I thought she wavered at this, for a blush deeper than all the others suffused her.

"Besides," I continued warningly, "you are within the enemy's lines now, and you may find me a help. Come!" and I held out my hand.

Very slowly she put her own within it. I noticed that it was still plump, the fine skin not yet withered.

"You are very kind, Major Blake. I had been misinformed, or you should have had no occasion to think me rude."

It was then that I wished definitely to shake Miss Caroline.

"Come, come," I said, "you are not giving me what you gave at first. I'm not to be put off that way, you know. If I call you Miss Caroline,—and I've sworn to call you nothing else,—you must be Miss Caroline."

She searched my face eagerly,—then—

"You shall call me Miss Caroline—but remember, sir, it makes you my servant." She smiled again, without the icy reserve this time, whereat I was glad—but back of the smile I could see that she felt a bitter homesickness of the new place.

"Your most obedient servant," I said. "You have another slave, Miss Caroline, another that refuses manumission—another bit of personal property, clumsy but willing."

"Thank you, Major. I need your kindness more than I might seem to need it. Good night!" and even