“Dreadful!” exclaimed Rose.  “I could not have believed any of our officers would allow such things.  But war is very cruel, and gives opportunity to wicked, cruel men, on both sides to indulge their evil propensities and passions.  Thank God, it is over at last; and oh, may He, in His great goodness and mercy, spare us a renewal, of it.”

“I say amen to that!” responded Mrs. Howard earnestly.  “My poor Ned! my brothers! my crippled husband!  Oh, I sometimes think my heart will break!”

It was some minutes ere she could speak again, for weeping, and the others wept with her.

But resuming.  “We were visited by both armies,” she said, “and one did about as much mischief as the other; and between them there is but little left:  they did not burn us out at Pinegrove, but stripped us very bare.”

“Aunt Lora, dear Aunt Lora!” Elsie sobbed, embracing her with much tenderness; “we cannot restore the loved ones, but your damages shall be repaired.”

“Ah, it will take a lifetime; we have no means left.”

“You shall borrow of me without interest.  With the exception of the failure of income from Viamede, I have lost nothing by the war but the negroes.  My husband’s losses are somewhat heavier.  But our united income is still very large; so that I believe I can help you all, and I shall delight to do it, even should it involve the sale of most of my jewels.”

“Dear child, you are very very kind,” Lora said, deeply moved; “and it may be that Edward, proud as he is, will accept some assistance from you.”

The next morning Mr. Dinsmore and Rose, Mr. Travilla and Elsie, mounted their horses directly after breakfast, and set out to view for themselves the desolations of Roselands and Ion, preparatory to considering what could be done to restore them to their former beauty.

Roselands lying nearest, received their attention first, but so greatly were the well-remembered landmarks changed, that on arriving, they could scarce believe themselves there.

Not one of the noble old trees, that had bordered the avenue and shaded the lawn, was left standing; many lay prostrate upon the ground, while others had been used for fuel.  Of the house naught remained but a few feet of stone wall, some charred, blackened beams, and a heap of ashes.  The gardens were a desert, the lawn was changed to a muddy field by the tramping of many feet, and furrowed with deep ruts where the artillery had passed and repassed; fences, hedge-rows, shrubbery—­all had disappeared; and the fields, once cultivated with great care, were overgrown with weeds and nettles.

“We have lost our way! this cannot be the place!” cried Rose, as they reined in their horses on the precise spot where Arthur and Walter had taken their farewell look at home.

“Alas, alas, it is no other!” Mr. Travilla replied, in moved tones.

The hearts of Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie were too full for speech, and hot tears were coursing down the cheeks of the latter.