Bev.  I don’t feel like he was our cousin any more.  Didn’t it seem strange that he and Mr. Hopkins should have visited here just before the war?  I liked them fine.  I believe I liked Hopkins best.  I was awful sorry when they went away.

Fair (quietly, without looking at him).  Does that seem very long ago to you, Bev?

Bev (surprised).  Why, no:  not longer than it was.

Fair.  I was thinking—­I can’t help wondering if we shall ever see him again.

Bev.  Who do you mean, Hopkins?

Fair (softly).  No; Steve!

Bev.  We may, though I hope not.

Fair (surprised).  Why?

Bev.  He’d be our enemy now.

[Fair seems greatly troubled.

Fair.  Somehow I can’t help thinking that we shall see him again.  I often wonder if he’s changed.  He seemed so different from our boys—­so very different, somehow.

Bev.  I wonder why you never like to walk down through the lane any more?  I don’t believe you’ve been down there for a long time, not since Hopkins and Winthrop were here.

Fair (quickly).  Oh, yes, I have, lots of times.  When Aunt Sally was sick and when Uncle Joe died, don’t you remember?

Bev.  So you have; but I was thinking of the last walk we took down there.  Hopkins and I went off through the woods hunting, and you and Winthrop walked down to the bars and waited for us.  ’Twas night when we got back, and you and he were still standing near the bars.  The moon made you look so white, I was afraid you were sick.  That’s why I remember.

Fair (with an effort).  Don’t let’s talk about that any more, will you, Bev?

Bev.  Of course; I didn’t know you minded.  Was that why you didn’t want to walk there just now?

Fair (rising).  Let’s go and look for Charlotte:  perhaps she’s heard some news.

Bev.  I reckon she’s in the house; I’ll call her.

[He runs towards the house, calling “Charlotte!  Charlotte!”
Exit into house.

Fair (sits quietly on the bench looking off before her, greatly troubled).  I couldn’t, someway I couldn’t go there—­to-day.  Two years ago this night!  And yet how long, how terribly long ago it seems!  He told me he’d come back.  I often wonder why I care:  but it was such a happy time!

[Her head sinks wearily down on her arm on the back of the bench,
covering her face.

[Enter from the back Col. and Mrs. Stuart.  Col.  Stuart is a
large, handsome, soldierly man of about fifty the typical
Southern Colonel.  He wears his uniform and walks with
a slight limp.  Mrs. Stuart is a pretty, dignified,
matronly-looking woman, same few years younger than
her husband.  She is dressed in a simple black dress of
good material, that has evidently seen better days.  Fair
rises quickly, going to them.  She places a chair for her
father, who sits.

Fair (slipping one arm around his neck and pressing her cheek to his).  Dear father, Bev and I were just coming to look for you.