IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF GENERAL GRANT 24

IV. RED MEN AND BUFFALO 38

V. THE TELEGRAPH TRAIL 53

VI. THE RETURN OF THE ARTIST 70

VII. LONDON AND EVENING DRESS 86

VIII. THE CHOICE OF THE NEW DAUGHTER 97

IX. A JUDICIAL WEDDING 122

X. THE NEW DAUGHTER AND THANKSGIVING 140

XI. MY FATHER'S INHERITANCE 153

XII. WE TOUR THE OKLAHOMA PRAIRIE 171

XIII. STANDING ROCK AND LAKE MCDONALD 184

XIV. THE EMPTY ROOM 204

                     BOOK II

XV. A SUMMER IN THE HIGH COUNTRY 219

XVI. THE WHITE HOUSE MUSICAL 237

XVII. SIGNS OF CHANGE 247

XVIII. THE OLD PIONEER TAKES THE BACK TRAIL 262

XIX. NEW LIFE IN THE OLD HOUSE 271

XX. MARY ISABEL'S CHIMNEY 289

XXI. THE FAIRY WORLD OF CHILDHOOD 307

XXII. THE OLD SOLDIER GAINS A GRANDDAUGHTER 326

XXIII. “CAVANAGH” AND THE “WINDS OF DESTINY” 341

XXIV. THE OLD HOMESTEAD SUFFERS DISASTER 355

XXV. DARKNESS JUST BEFORE THE DAWN 369

XXVI. SPRAY OF WILD ROSES 381

XXVII. A SOLDIER OF THE UNION MUSTERED OUT 389

AFTERWORD 400

ILLUSTRATIONS

Isabel Clintock Garland, A Daughter of the Middle Border
                     Frontispiece

Zulime Taft: The New Daughter Frontispiece

                     FACING PAGE

Miss Zulime Taft, acting as volunteer housekeeper for the colony 104

At last the time came when I was permitted to take my wife—lovely as a Madonna—out into the sunshine 287

The old soldier loved to take the children on his knees and bask in the light of the fire 304

Entirely subject to my daughter, who regarded me as a wonderful giant, I paid tribute to her in song and story 322

That night as my daughters “dressed up” as princesses, danced in the light of our restored hearth, I forgot all the disheartenment which the burning of the house had brought upon me 368

The art career which Zulime Taft abandoned after our marriage, is now being taken up by her daughter Constance 400

To Mary Isabel who as a girl of eighteen still loves to impersonate the majesty of princesses 402

A DAUGHTER OF THE MIDDLE BORDER

BOOK I

CHAPTER ONE. My First Winter in Chicago

“Well, Mother,” I said as I took my seat at the breakfast table the second day after our Thanksgiving dinner, “I must return to Chicago. I have some lectures to deliver and besides I must get back to my writing.”

She made no objection to my announcement but her eyes lost something of their happy light. “When will you come again?” she asked after a pause.

“Almost any minute,” I replied assuringly. “You must remember that I'm only a few hours away now. I can visit you often.