coming up the steps, straight to Aunt Basha. She saw the old woman, saw her anxious hesitation, and halted. The next event was a heavenly smile. Aunt Basha knew the repartee to that, and the smile that shone in answer was as heavenly in its way as the girl's. "Is there anything I can do for you?" spoke a voice of gentleness. And the world had turned over and come up right side on top. "Mawnin', Miss. Yas'm, I was fixin' to go in dat big do' yander, but I dunno as I'm 'lowed. Is I 'lowed, young miss, to go in dar an' gib my two hun'erd to Unc' Sam?" "What?" The tone was kindness itself, but bewildered. Aunt Basha elucidated. "I got two hun'erd, young miss, and I cert'nly want to gib it to Unc' Sam to buy clo'se for dem boys what's fightin' for us in Franch." "I wonder," spoke the girl, gazing thoughtfully, "if you want to get a Liberty Bond?" "Yas'm--yas, miss. Dat's sho' it, a whatjer-ma-call-'em. I know'd 'twas some cu'is name lak dat." The vision nodded her head. "I'm going in to do that very thing myself," she said. "Come with me. I'll help you get yours." Aunt Basha followed joyfully in the wake, and behold, everything was easy. Ready attention met them and shortly they sat in a private office carpeted in velvet and upholstered in grandeur. A personage gave grave attention to what the vision was saying. "I met--I don't know your name," she interrupted herself, turning to the old negro woman. Aunt Basha rose and curtsied. "Dey christened me Bathsheba Jeptha, young miss," she stated. "But I'se rightly known as Aunt Basha. Jes' Aunt Basha, young miss. And marster." A surname was disinterred by the efforts of the personage which appeared to startle the vision. "Why, it's our name, Mr. Davidson," she exclaimed. "She said Cabell." Aunt Basha turned inquiring, vague eyes. "Is it, honey? Is yo' a Cabell?" And then the personage, who was, after all, cashier of the Ninth National Bank and very busy, cut in. "Ah, yes! A well known Southern name. Doubtless a large connection. And now Mrs.--ah--Cabell--"