The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-08-02
WHEN LEE SURRENDERED.
Love Joined Victorious North and Van
pushed South and Buried
the Hatchet.
BY sALLIE PATE STEEN.
CopyrSo7at 1s91-AEz Rights ReserUed.F

/ standing we'll back from the high ROAD,
surrounded by clustering trees and APP
preached by an avenue of magnificent
cedars; but the grounds were no longer
trim and well kept, and the numerous
outbuildings were dilapidated and va
can't. An air of neglect and loneliness,
enhanced by its remote situation from
any town or village, hung about the
place, and its interior correspondent but
too well with this external desolation.
There had evidently been but few
modern additions to the household be-
longings in late years. The furniture
was still handsome, but old and massive,
and the brilliant hues of the Turkey car
pets and the rich curtains had faded to
sober and neutral tints. The bare floors
in some of the rooms were actually more
cheerful, for they were waxed and rub
bed until they shone like mirrors, and
| when the fires were lighted in the open
freplaces the flames glistened upon shin
ing oak and danced on the polished sur
face of old mahogany and multiplied
themselves u the big brass andirons,
that shone in rivalry of the brass candle
sticks upon the high, old fashioned man
tells.
AS Glen wandered restlessly from room
to room, her home seemed to wear new
and unfamiliar aspect to her startled
eyes. Suppose it should be invaded? 1t
had always been SO sure and peaceful a
haven. Remote and secluded, only the
rumors of war had disturbed its inmates,
and the one member of the immediate
family who had ever been called upon to
yield to its demands had thus far been
singularly preserved from danger. But
its grim shadow had taken all the color
out Of the girls life. All her opportuni-
ties had been sacrificed to it. Every
promise Of her opening girlhood had
been blighted by it.
You were to have gone to school In
Philadelphia, dear" her mother would
say sometimes, passing her hand over
Glen's fine head caressingly, "and then
abroad, if it had not been for the war;
your father and had planned it all"
Or, eThere is no hope of your COM
ing out, or of our entertaining for you,
as we would once have done. 1t would
all have been so different If it had not
been for the war"
OF course these were but minor con-
siderations, and the girl unselfshly felt
them to be such. Were there not al
ways graver consequences to be la
mented? Had not this Unsuitable war
snatehed from them their all, whitened
her mothers hslr with untimeIy snow,
and torn son and brother from their
arns2 And just before her, as she
reached the hall, was sadder evidence
than these OF its teTrors.
The hall was a fine old entrance to a
fine old house. Its oaken floor and rich
wainscot cleaned in the evening light,
and curiously carved settle ran around
three of its sides.
A few high backed chairs and one or
two old tables with quaint spindle legs
constituted its meager furniture, but its
noble proportions and rich carvings re-
deemed it from baroness, and it was
sweet with the pine cones and wild flow
ers of which Glen had yesterday rided
the woods. A bowl filed with early
violets and pale primroses was placed
directly beneath a portrait draped with
| the sad Confederate flag, and looking up
at the boyish face above her with all the
fiery tragedy Of hopeless self devotion
written upon it, Glen read once more
through mist of tears the inscription
! beneath:
Captain Helen, a brave soldier and
gallant commander, fell in leading .
charge at the battle of Antietam, Sept.
II, 1852"
AS she turned away, her eyes instinc-
lively seeking the window opposite
which commanded a view Of her foes, she
started with surprise and terror. A man
in the uniform of a Union cavalry officer
was making his way up the long avenue
/ to the house.