"Go." She kissed him, and turned in silent, slow obedience, casting a scowl at the grim and silent General Grant, then moved toward the guarded door.
"Wait!" said a quiet voice.
"Harris! They say that fools and children speak the truth." He paused and then said gently: "Come here, little girl.

Come here and talk to me." Somewhat in fear now that the kind voice robbed her of her anger the little pale faced child choked down her sobs and came slowly forward to the desk.

But, as she stood there, her courage returned and, marvel of marvels, her tiny hand went up in imitation of a salute.
Grant dropped his chin in his hand so that their heads were nearly on a level across his desk and looked at her with gentle kindness in his eyes.
"The Littlest Rebel, eh ?" he said in low tones.

"How old are you ?" "S-s-s-even.

Goin' on eight," responded Virgie, gulping down a sob and nervously fingering her tattered dress.
"Ah, yes," he nodded.