Mr. Arnold had been right in thinking that Steve Bragg had removed to a location that he believed safer than the neighborhood of the Tennessee River in the late winter of 1862, and it was a long time before the Arnolds had any news of their former neighbors. But in her anxiety about Lily, Berry forgot, for the moment, that her playmate Mollie would not be on hand for their walks and games, and that henceforth she would be the only little girl on Shiloh Ridge.

Noonday passed, and the winter afternoon drew to a close, and Berry now became sure that they would never see Lily again. She thought of the friendless negro girl again wandering about without food or shelter, and trembling at every noise, and earnestly wished she had not driven her away.

Just at nightfall the outer door was cautiously pushed open, and Lily, her arms filled with wood, appeared on the threshold. Without a word, or87 a look toward the astonished Mrs. Arnold and the surprised Berry, she quietly filled the wood-box, and taking the milking-pail from its accustomed place started toward the door. Before she could reach it Berry called “Lily!” and started toward her.

“I knows yo’ don’ wan’ me h’ar, Missie, an’ soon’s I do de chores fer yo’ Ma I’ll get my ole dress an’ go,” the girl said humbly, not raising her eyes to look at the little girl who had promised to be her friend, and who had then ordered her never to return to the cabin.

“Berry does not want you to go, Lily. Whatever made you think that?” questioned Mrs. Arnold. “We have all been troubled and anxious about you.”

At the sound of Mrs. Arnold’s friendly voice Lily looked up, and her eyes sought Berry’s questioningly.

“Don’t go away, Lily,” exclaimed the little girl. “I don’t want you to go.”

A broad smile crept over Lily’s face as she glanced from Berry to Mrs. Arnold. “Den I ain’ ever gwine away,” she declared, and started off with the milk pail toward the barn.

“Lily seemed to think you did not want her88 here. Poor girl. I wonder what will become of her,” said Mrs. Arnold thoughtfully.

“Oh, Mother! You talk as if you did not mean for her to stay here!” Berry reproachfully responded. “And I told her to go and never come back!” she added quickly; and then Berry told the story of Lily following her to the highway.

“She kept out of sight all the way, Mother. But so near that I could hear her in the underbrush. And then, after I found the Braggs were gone, and started for home, and heard someone ready to follow me again, and found it was Lily,—and she acted so foolish and frightened, I told her I never wanted to see her again.”

Mrs. Arnold busied herself with some work at the kitchen table, and for a moment made no response. It was Berry who was the first to speak.

“Of course I did not mean it, Mother. I want her to stay. I was only angry.”

“I expect Lily is used to people being angry with her; perhaps that is why she ran away. It may be the reason that she would rather suffer cold and hunger, and flee in terror from every noise, rather than live with people who were easily angered,” Mrs. Arnold responded quietly;89 “angry people are usually cruel people,” she added, and before Berry could speak her mother continued: “The only reason that troubles me in regard to Lily staying with us is that your father and I might be accused of sheltering a runaway slave, and if she is found in our house it might involve us in serious trouble. You know, Berry, this is a slaveholding state.”

“But no one knows she is here. And if anyone comes they will think Lily belongs to us,” Berry responded eagerly. “And, Mother!” she added soberly, “I did not mean to be angry. I just couldn’t help it.”

Mrs. Arnold shook her head. “That’s what everyone thinks, my dear. But even if you were angry it was no excuse. Lily followed you because she loved you: if any accident had befallen you on the way Lily would have been close at hand to help or protect you. I am sure that was her reason for following you. You see, Berry, you were the first one to help Lily, and she trusted you.”

“Oh, dear!” sniffed Berry, ready to cry as she remembered that Lily had not tasted food since early morning, and had believed herself deserted by her new friend.

90

“And she came back to do your chores,” she whimpered. “I’ll make it up to her, so she will know I didn’t mean it,” the little girl declared, and when Lily brought in the milk it was Berry who ran to meet her and declared:

“Oh, Lily! We couldn’t manage without you,” smiling up at the wistful-eyed negro girl, who beamed with happiness at the unexpected kindness.

“I jes’ follered yo’, Missie, ’cos I was feared fer yo’,” she whispered. “I didn’ mean no harm!”

Berry nodded. She did not want Lily to see her cry, and so she ran off to the sitting-room to tell her father the good news of Lily’s return.

As the days passed and no one appeared in pursuit of a runaway negro girl, the little household in the hillside cabin became sure tha............