There was nothing left for the impoverished family but to return to the old Virginia home, and try to make the best of it.  They were compelled to travel as best they could, sometimes walking many miles, sometimes taking advantage of a passing wagon.  At last one evening, just as the sun was setting, they approached the home-place, once a blooming paradise, now a desert waste.  The cabin of Maum Winnie with a few of the servants’ houses were still standing, but deserted and desolate.  Doors, log fireplaces, etc., had been torn down for firewood, and in many places patches of charred wood, or dead embers, showed where camp-fires had been lighted.  The little garden in front of Maum Winnie’s cabin, made and carefully tended by “de ole man,” was a wilderness of weeds among which flowers of rank growth still struggled for a place.  Where the chimneys of the “house” still stood, and all over the half-burned trunks of once beautiful trees crept and clung sickly-looking vines, springing from the roots which had once nourished a luxuriant growth and were not wholly dead.

As Mr. Grey surveyed the scene, a deep groan burst from his lips; but the wife laid her hand upon his shoulder, saying, “Courage, dear, we will make a home even here.”  Maum Winnie here stepped to the front, briskly leading the way to the little cabin, followed by Nelly, who, child-like, entered readily into any plan that promised to be novel and exciting.  Everything of value had been carried off, but a few chairs and a bed with a shuck mattress remained, together with a few pots and pans.  The fireplaces were also ready for use.  Winnie soon had a cheerful fire, while Nelly set out on the top of a box the remains of the rations they had brought along, and which with some steaming coffee of parched corn formed the evening meal.

Ten years later a plain but tasteful cottage occupied the site of the ruined home.  Fast-growing vines were doing their best to rival the luxuriant foliage which once almost hid the old house.  A well-kept garden perfumed the air and delighted the eye.  Fields ripe for the harvest occupied the land where the negro cabins had stood, forming an effective background to the newly-repaired and whitewashed house of Maum Winnie, which stood, a pleasant feature of this scene of peace and plenty, its fences intact, posies blooming as of old.  On the little porch sat the old woman, dozing over her knitting.  The gallery of the house was occupied by a family group, who were enjoying the fresh coolness of the evening out of doors.  Mrs. Grey sat upon the upper steps arranging some flowers, which were supplied to her as she called for them by a lovely boy, who had just brought his apron full of them.  Nelly, swinging in a hammock, was a picture of lazy enjoyment.  The attention of all was attracted by the sound of wheels, which ceased as a carriage drove up containing a gentleman and lady, and a young lady who sat by the driver (an old negro who was often employed as a driver and guide