Free Secret of Richmond Manor by Gilbert L. Morris

put it on, then sat down before the mirror and brushed her hair.
    Leah never considered herself pretty. She was too tall and gawky, to her thinking. She had always admired petite girls, small ones who had to look up at men.
    I don’t look up at many
. Then she smiled and said aloud, “Except for Jeff. I hope he keeps on growing. It’s nice for a man to be tall like that.” She ran the tortoise comb through her hair, which fell in honey-colored waves almost down to her waist. Finally she braided it and put it in a coil on the back of her head.
    When she heard a horse and buggy pulling up on the road, she reached into a drawer and drew out her only piece of jewelry. Carefully she removed the gold locket and held it for a moment. She opened it and smiled at the image of Jeff peering straight at her, unsmiling.
He has such a nice smile
, she thought.
I don’t know why he’s scowling like he’s got to pick cotton
. She snapped the chain to fasten it behind her neck, then walked to the door.
    Jeff was just mounting the steps. “Oh! Well, you’re all ready. That’s a shock!”
    Leah saw that he was wearing his dress uniform with two rows of small buttons down the front. It was ash gray, and he had a campaign hat pulleddown over his eyes. He’d gotten that trick, she knew, from Stonewall Jackson.
    â€œI’m never late,” she said. “I’m ready if you are. Let me say good night to Uncle Silas.”
    Soon the two were on their way, and Jeff said, “I wish we had a fancy buggy, but this wagon’s all I could commandeer. And these mules may be fit for plowing, but they’re not very stylish.”
    â€œAs long as they get us there, Jeff, that’s all right. Tell me what you’ve been doing.” She sat jolting along on the rough road and listening as he rambled on about what had been happening in the camp.
    Then she said, “I don’t know any of these people, the Driscolls. I wish Uncle Silas could have gone with us.”
    â€œWell, we’re even. They don’t know us either.” Jeff grinned. He had pulled his cap off, and his black hair was slightly curly from having just been washed.
    A thought came to her. “Jeff, I hope you never grow whiskers.”
    â€œWhiskers!
What made you think of a thing like that?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know. Uncle Silas looks nice with his. Old men with white beards sort of look like Santa Claus, but I think most beards are just foolish. Don’t raise any whiskers, please.”
    He laughed at her. “Won’t promise that. Stonewall’s got whiskers, and so has General Lee. That’s good enough for me!”
    The two of them continued to enjoy each other’s company, and at last they arrived at a very large two-story house set back off the road. Eight huge pillars in front formed a portico, and the windowson the first floor blazed with light. They could hear the sound of music—fiddles and what sounded like a banjo.
    â€œGuess they’ve already started,” Jeff said.
    He pulled up the mules in front of the house, and a servant came to say, “Take these mules, suh?”
    â€œYes, thanks.” Jeff looked at the fancy carriages and thoroughbred horses that were tied to a rail farther down, and he grinned at the man. “I guess these would do better to plow than to come to a place like this.”
    â€œFine-looking animals, Captain.” The man grinned back, his teeth white in his black face. “I’ll take good care of ’em for you.”
    â€œThat was a quick promotion,” Jeff murmured. “Captain in one moment. Well, let’s get inside.”
    They mounted the steps and were met at the door by a tall, distinguished-looking man. He had a full beard, brown and well tended, and he smiled, saying, “We haven’t met. I’m John Driscoll, and this is my wife, Edith.”
    â€œYou must know my Uncle Silas,” Leah