A sharp whistle brought the dogs to a standstill, and Roxy saw a tall boy come hurrying toward her.

“Lucky I was close by,” he muttered; “those dogs don’t like strangers! Say!” and he smiled approvingly on Roxy. “You had some courage to walk right along toward ’em! How’d you know they wouldn’t eat you up?”

“I guess I was too tired to run away,” confessed Roxy, and before she could say that she had come to visit the little Hinham girls the tall boy exclaimed:

“I’ll bet you’re the little Yankee girl, ain’t you?”

Roxy nodded. She was almost too tired to speak.

“Well, we’re sure glad you came over,” the boy continued, his black eyes twinkling with friendliness as he clasped Roxy’s hand and led her up the rough lane.

“My name is Roland,” he announced, “Roland Hinham, and I’m the oldest of the family, nearly fifteen,” and he smiled again; and the tired Roxy thought the tall boy must be very good-natured; he seemed always smiling.

“My name is Roxana Elizabeth Delfield,” she responded, “and I’m ten years old.”

“You’re older than my sisters. Jasmine isn’t nine yet, and Myrtle is seven, and Ivy about five. They are all little girls,” replied Roland.

“What pretty names!” exclaimed Roxy admiringly, but before she could say anything more the three little Hinham girls came out on the porch of the house and stood looking at their brother and the little girl who clung to his hand.

“I’ve brought you a visitor,” Roland called, and in a moment Roxy found herself at the porch steps, and heard Roland say: “Jasmine, this is Miss Roxana Elizabeth Delfield, come to visit us,” and instantly the three little girls, each one of whom was dressed in a stiffly starched white muslin dress, made a curtsy to the newcomer and announced in soft musical voices: “We’re right pleased to see you,” and Jasmine, whose eyes and hair were as black as Roland’s, drew forward a small rush-bottomed rocking-chair and with a smile as friendly as her brother’s said: “Won’t you sit down?” and Roxy, too tired to say a word in response, sank into the comfortable chair while the three dark-haired girls in their white dresses gathered about her, and looked at her a little wonderingly.

Roland had disappeared, and Roxy began to feel that she ought to explain her torn skirt. “I fell down and my skirt caught in some briers and tore,” she said soberly, holding up the skirt of her pink cambric dress, and looking at it a little sorrowfully. “I guess my hands are not very clean,” she continued apologetically, noticing how neat and trim were the little girls beside her.

Jasmine whispered to Myrtle who promptly ran indoors, followed by little Ivy, and Jasmine drew a chair close beside Roxy’s and said softly: “Did you hurt you when you fell?”

“Not much,” replied Roxy, feeling an uncomfortable lump in her throat, and beginning to wish herself safely home in her own chamber where she could rest, “but I guess I’m tired. You see, I walked all the way from Grandma Miller’s. Your father asked me to come,” she explained.

Jasmine nodded. “He told us about you; we were coming to see you as soon as our mother gets home from Sharpsburg,” she said, and at the sound of approaching steps she turned toward the open door that led into a big cool room.

“Here’s Nonny!” she exclaimed, and a young colored woman closely followed by Myrtle and Ivy came out on the porch carrying a small tray that held a blue pitcher and a lustre mug.

“Maybe you’d like a drink, Missy?” said the negro, and filling the glass with foamy milk handed it to Roxy who drank eagerly.

“Now if Missy’ll jes’ step in de house I’ll fix dat skirt,” suggested Nonny, and with Jasmine close beside her Roxy went in, and followed Nonny up a broad flight of stairs to a pleasant chamber, where Jasmine and Nonny quickly persuaded her to slip off the torn dress and take off her shoes and stockings.

Nonny bathed Roxy’s tired feet, as well as her face and hands, brushed out the tangles of the wavy brown hair, and Roxy, curled up in a big cushioned chair, with her three new friends gathered around her while Nonny carried off the pink dress to press out its wrinkles, began to be well pleased that she had decided to visit the Hinham family.

Little Ivy had brought a family of dolls to entertain the unexpected guest; Myrtle had opened the lower drawer of the bureau and taken out her fine new leghorn hat trimmed with a wreath of pink rosebuds for Roxy to admire, while Jasmine sat close beside her new friend, watching Roxy with admiring eyes.

“Your hair is so pretty,” Jasmine declared; “it has little waves all through it, and you have a dimple in your chin, just as Ivy has.”

This was very pleasant to Roxy, and when Nonny brought back the pink cambric dress, neatly mended and pressed, and she found herself being led downstairs to luncheon Roxy had almost forgotten her quarrel with Polly Lawrence, and was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Father is away so Roland is taking care of things!” said Jasmine, as Nonny said luncheon was waiting, and Roland came into the dining-room and lifted Ivy to her seat at the table.

Roxy was sure it was the best luncheon that she had ever eaten: the golden omelette, the delicious cold ham and creamed potatoes, the early peas, the plum jam and hot biscuit, and the glass of cool milk were all delicious to the hungry girl, and she did not give a thought to the basket she had left beneath the sycamore.

After luncheon Jasmine was eager for Roxy to try their swing under the big oak tree, and Roland was ready to send them swinging through the air until they declared themselves tired. Roland listened gravely when Roxy told of the two Confederate soldiers whom she had encountered on the previous day. Roland knew well that the Union Army of the Potomac was making preparations for its grand assault on Richmond; he had heard his father declare that at any time Union and Confederate forces might meet on Maryland soil and a serious battle ensue; and as Roxy told of the fleeing Union soldier and the pursuing Confederates the boy wondered if the Southern Army might not be planning to enter Maryland.

But Jasmine was greatly excited over her friend’s adventure.

“Why, it was really you, Roxy, who helped the man escape!” she declared, looking at her new friend with admiring eyes. “What do you s’pose his name was?” she added thoughtfully.

Roxy shook her head. “I didn’t think about his name,” she replied.

“Maybe it was the Richmond prison from which he escaped,” suggested Roland, but Myrtle had begun to sing and Roxy was listening so eagerly that for the moment she entirely forgot the Yankee soldier.

“A-swinging, a-swinging,
Under a rose-tree swinging—
I saw a green fairy
Who wore a gold crown.
I heard fairy bells ringing,
And fairies were singing,
And dancing and bringing
Fairy honey to the one
Who wore the gold crown!”

As Myrtle sang she danced about the swing, followed by little Ivy; and in a moment Jasmine laughingly followed, all three of the girls joining in the song as they circled about the swing where Roxy sat smiling delightedly.

“Sing some more!” she exclaimed, as she left the swing and danced on behind the others, and Jasmine nodded, and began:

“Every leaf on every bough
Dances now, dances now.”

As the girls danced they bowed to the left and right, with graceful movements that Roxy endeavored to imitate, and the group made a pretty picture.

Roland had returned to his work, and when the girls tired of dancing Myrtle suggested that perhaps Roxy would like to see the flock of bantams, and led the way to the group of farm buildings at some distance from the house where Roxy exclaimed over the tiny bantam chickens.

“You can have a pair if you want them,” said Myrtle. “When we come over to see you we’ll bring you a pair,” she promised.

Roxy’s face flushed with pleasure as she thanked her new friend; and when they all wandered to the pasture that Roxy might see the three gray ponies that belonged to the little Hinham girls Roxy told herself that Jasmine and Myrtle and Ivy were the most fortunate girls in the world.

“You have everything,” she declared admiringly, as they returned to the shady porch where Nonny promptly brought them glasses of raspberry shrub and tiny frosted cakes.

“Yes, indeed!” said Jasmine, and Myrtle and Ivy both nodded and smiled. They felt rather sorry for their visitor because she did not have a brother like Roland and small sisters to play with.

The tall clock in the front room struck four, and, with a little exclamation of surprise, Roxy said she must at once start for home.

“Roland is going to drive you over; he said he would,” Jasmine told her, and in a short time the two gray ponies harnessed to a pretty basket-phaeton trotted up to the porch and Roland helped Roxy to a seat beside him, while Jasmine, Myrtle and Ivy all promised to return her visit as soon as their mother came home.

“It’s the nicest visit I ever had!” Roxy called back to them, as the ponies trotted briskly off toward the highway.