Flora’s father was a wealthy cotton planter, and their Charleston home was in one of the historic mansions of that city.  Beside that there was the big old house on the Ashley River ten miles from the city, where the family stayed a part of the time.

Flora’s eyes were as blue as Sylvia’s, and her hair was very much the same color.  She was always smiling and friendly, and was better liked than Elinor Mayhew, who, as Flora said, was always ready to tease the younger girls.

“I don’t know what she meant,” said Sylvia as, with Grace on one side and Flora on the other, they started toward home.

“She is just hateful,” declared Grace.  “I wish I had not asked Miss Rosalie about the forts.  But I did want to know.  It would be dreadful not to see them where they have always been.”

“Oh, Grace!  You didn’t think they were going to move the forts to Washington, did you?” laughed Flora.  “I know better than that.  Taking the forts means that the Government of the United States would own them instead of South Carolina.”

Grace laughed good-naturedly.  She was always as ready to laugh at her own mistakes as at those of others; and in the year that Sylvia had known her she had never seen Grace vexed or angry.

Both Grace and Flora advised Sylvia not to tell her mother of Elinor’s unkindness, or of her taunting words.  But it was rather difficult for Sylvia to keep a secret from her mother.

“You see, it will make your mother sorry, and she will fret about it,” Flora had said; and at this Sylvia had decided that no matter what happened at school she would not tell her mother about it.  She almost dreaded seeing Elinor again, and wondered why Elinor’s mother had not wanted Miss Patten to take her as a pupil.

Mr. and Mrs. Fulton were surprised when at supper time Sylvia demanded to know what a “Yankee” was.  She thought her mother looked a little troubled.  But her father smiled.  “Yankee is what Britishers call all Americans,” he answered.

“Then Elinor Mayhew is just as much a Yankee as I am,” thought Sylvia, and she smiled so radiantly at the thought that Mrs. Fulton was reassured, and did not question her.

The next day was Saturday, and Mr. Fulton had planned to take his wife and Sylvia to Fort Moultrie.  The military band of the fort played every afternoon, and the parapet of the fort was a daily promenade for many Charleston people.  During the summer workmen had been making necessary repairs on the fortifications; but visitors were always welcomed by the officers in charge, one of whom, Captain Carleton, was a college friend of Sylvia’s father.

Sylvia could row a small boat very well, and her father had purchased a pretty sailboat which he was teaching her to steer.  She often went with her father on trips about the harbor, and the little girl always thought that these excursions were the most delightful of pleasures.