“Oh! How can I wait!” thought Berry impatiently as she hurried to dress. “If I was in Vermont I should think it was either the minister, or Aunt Melvina coming to visit,” she decided, as she vigorously brushed her brown curls.
When Berry reached the kitchen she exclaimed in amazement, for the table was spread for six people. Its coarse cover was white as snow, and the blue of the dishes, the glass dish filled with wild strawberries, and the white bowl filled with violets, gave it a very festive air. Lily, in a blue dress, and wearing a white cap and apron, was busy at the stove, and Mrs. Arnold was just cutting out a pan of rolls, while Berry’s father, “dressed for church,” as the little girl exclaimed, stood in the open doorway over which hung the American flag.
“Who is it? Who is it that is coming? I should think it was General Grant himself!” exclaimed Berry as she ran toward her father.
Before Mrs. Arnold could speak and fulfil her promise there was the sound of hoofs, the jangle of harness, and Mr. Arnold ran down the path. Berry was close behind him, but she suddenly stopped short.
“It’s Colonel Peabody!” she exclaimed, and then noticed a bearded man, mounted on a fine gray horse, whom her father was eagerly welcoming. Behind these two officers rode the young soldier, whom Berry instantly remembered as the one who had guided Lily and herself from the camp at Pittsburg Landing.
The two officers dismounted, and the young soldier took charge of their horses.
Berry stood on the path not knowing quite what to do, but Colonel Peabody came to meet her, and in a moment Berry was being led toward that quiet, unimposing, and unostentatious officer, Brigadier-General U. S. Grant; whom, in 1862, neither public opinion, nor his own thought, had marked out for the mighty achievements before him.
[Illustration: “HERE IS THE LITTLE MESSENGER OF WHOM I TOLD YOU.”]
As Berry heard Colonel Peabody say: “General Grant, here is the little messenger of whom I told you, the Yankee girl of Shiloh!” she looked up to meet the steady, friendly glance of the grave eyes of the great General of the Civil War, and it was Berry who walked beside him to the cabin door, and who sat at his right hand at that simple breakfast party where the war-worn soldiers feasted on hot rolls and coffee, and praised the broiled chicken and hominy that Mrs. Arnold and Lily had so carefully prepared.