Outside the Stuart home, may 11, 1864.

“If love were all!”

ACT II.

The parlour of the Stuart home.  On the following night.

“The Signal.”

ACT III.

The prison at Columbus.  One hour before midnight, may 22.

“The heart of a soldier.”

ACT IV.

The banks of the Aspen river, six months afterward.  Late in November.

“Once more we pass along this way; Once more, ’tis where at first we met!”

Time—­1864.

Scene—­A Southern State.

Production under the personal direction of Miss Julia Connelly.

* * * * *

THE SOUTHERN CROSS.

ACT I.

Outside the Stuart home, May, 1864.  The large beautiful lawn of a
  typical Southern home.  On the left and partly at the back stands the
  house, of colonial build, a wide porch running the entire length of
  the house, with three broad, low steps leading down to the garden. 
  Many vines, mostly wisteria, in full bloom, cover the walls and some
  climb around the banisters.  The porch has four white pillars reaching
  to the second story.  On the right is a green garden bench, and at the
  back may be seen a road leading past the house, a low picket fence
  between many trees; box-bushes and shrubs are near the right.  It is
  near twilight of an afternoon in May.  On the right and through the
  picket fence a small gate leading to the garden and thence to the
  family graveyard.  Over the whole scene there is a half look of decay: 
  the grounds are not in order, the bushes are untrimmed, as though
  poverty had come suddenly to its occupants.  At rise of curtain Aunt
  Marthy, an old negro mammy of the familiar Southern type, is discovered
  by the gate leading into the garden; in her hands she holds some roses
  and other flowers she has been gathering.

Marthy.  ’Clare hit don’t seem natural—­it suttenly don’t.  Dis hyer place ain’t what it was; look at dat fence and at dem bushes!  It’s gittin run down, dat’s what’s the matter; it’s gittin run down.

[Enter Cupid from the gate at back, leading into the lane. 
He is an old negro of about the same age as Marthy. 
His clothes are very old and worn, yet there is a
pathetic suggestion of neatness in his ragged dress.

Cupid.  Marthy, is you seen dem chullen?

Marthy.  Nor I ain’t seen um since lunch.  Mars Bev and Miss Fair don suttenly tek dis place since de war brek out.  I hear um say dey gwine down to de mill.