Thorne’s coming with them seemed to the Smiths a very natural proceeding.  His aunt proposed it one day, when he had been more than usually helpful, vowing that she scarcely knew how to get along without him, and Thorne fell in with the proposal at once; it made little difference, since he was coming for the shooting anyway.  If Norma had another theory in regard to his unwillingness to be separated from them, she was careful to keep it hidden.

The country gentry, led and influenced by the Masons, extended the right hand of fellowship to the new-comers, and wrapped the folds of the social blanket cordially around them.  The worldly affairs of the Virginians, like their surroundings, were in a more or less perceptible state of dilapidation, and their means frequently failed to match their hospitality.  But their intentions were the best, and the Smiths (well-bred people, neither arrogant, nor purse-proud) speedily became reconciled to informality and lack of system, and learned to overlook deficiencies, or to piece them out with kindness.

From the first they were thrown much into the society of the Lanarth family, for the Masons at once assumed right of property in them, being bent with simple loyalty on defraying some portion of their debt of gratitude.  When their loved one was “sick and in prison” these strangers had extended to him kindness, and now that opportunity offered, that kindness should be returned, full measure, pressed down and running over.  For the general, Pocahontas conceived a positive enthusiasm, a feeling which the jolly old soldier was not slow in discovering, nor backward in reciprocating; the pair were the best of friends.

Ever since the finding of the letter, the girl’s mind had been filled with the story of the brother whom she scarcely remembered.  With tender imagination, she exaggerated his youth, his courage, his hardships, and glorified him into a hero.  Every thing connected with him appeared pitiful and sacred; his saber hung above the mantle, crossed with his father’s, and she took it down one morning and half-drew the dulled blade from the scabbard.  The brass of the hilt, and the trimmings of the belt and scabbard were tarnished, and even corroded in places.  She got a cloth and burnished them until they shone like gold.  When she replaced it, the contrast with the other sword hurt her, and a rush of remorseful tenderness made her take that down also, and burnish it carefully.  Poor father! almost as unknown as the young brother, she was grieved that he should have been the second thought.

She was restoring her father’s sword to its place, and re-arranging the crimson sash, faded and streaked in its folds, from wear and time, when Norma and Blanche arrived, escorted by Nesbit Thorne.  Little Sawney had been sitting on the hearth-rug watching her polish the arms, and offering suggestions, and Pocahontas dispatched him to invite her guests into the parlor, while she ran up-stairs to remove the traces of her work.  The young people from Shirley often walked over in the afternoons; the way was short and pleasant, and the brother and sister usually accompanied them part of the way home.