left the shade to cross the wide grassy space from Colonel's to General's Row. "Cousin Henry is so good himself, I am sure his little girl must have a great deal that is nice about her, and if she is a little selfish and trying, remember she has been ill a long time. P 15 Cousin Henry has been a good friend to you children; you know he got Bob his appointment to West Point, and Father is devoted to him. We are only too glad to do a little for him now in return." P 15 They had reached the General's house at the head of the little slope leading to the dock, and New York Harbor, gleaming in the morning sunlight, lay below them. "There's the boat, just coming in," said Lucy, starting down the hill as the army ferry General Hancock drew slowly inshore, while a soldier on the dock let down the chains that held the gangway. There were few passengers at this hour, most of the hundreds having government business coming earlier in the day, and only half a dozen people from the officers' cabin stepped ashore where Lucy and her mother and William stood waiting. The last to land was a tall, thin gentleman in a cool-looking pongee suit, with one arm around the shoulders of a slender girl about Lucy's size and dressed all in white. "There they are, Mother. Hello, Cousin Henry! Hello, Marian!" cried Lucy, all her doubts forgotten at sight of Mr. Leslie's cheerful smile and Marian's pretty face. Mrs. Gordon made haste to give them a cordial welcome, and as she bent to kiss Marian she asked hopefully, "You'll like it here with us, won't you, dear? We're so glad to have you." P 16 P 16 Marian gave a faint little smile as she answered, "Yes, Cousin Sally," and held out her hand to Lucy, while Mr. Leslie exclaimed with the friendly heartiness that made everybody like him: "Why, Sally, Lucy, William! I never was so glad to see any one in my life! I wish I could stay here with Marian. This post must be a great place to see things, these days, and if I'm not mistaken, here's the Major himself coming to meet us." He pointed toward the slope of the hill, down which a tall figure in summer olive-drab service uniform was swinging at a rapid walk.