CHRISTIE'S return was a very happy one, and could not well beotherwise with a mother, sister, and lover to welcome her back. Hermeeting with Letty was indescribably tender, and the days thatfollowed were pretty equally divided between her and her brother, innursing the one and loving the other. There was no cloud now inChristie's sky, and all the world seemed in bloom. But even whileshe enjoyed every hour of life, and begrudged the time given tosleep, she felt as if the dream was too beautiful to last, and oftensaid:

"Something will happen: such perfect happiness is not possible inthis world."

"Then let us make the most of it," David would reply, wisely bent ongetting his honey while he could, and not borrowing trouble for themorrow.

So Christie turned a deaf ear to her "prophetic soul," and gaveherself up to the blissful holiday that had come at last. Even whileMarch winds were howling outside, she blissfully "poked in the dirt"with David in the green-house, put up the curly lock as often as sheliked, and told him she loved him a dozen times a day, not in words,but in silent ways, that touched him to the heart, and made hisfuture look so bright he hardly dared believe in it.

A happier man it would have been difficult to find just then; allhis burdens seemed to have fallen off, and his spirits rose againwith an elasticity which surprised even those who knew him best.Christie often stopped to watch and wonder if the blithe young manwho went whistling and singing about the house, often stopping tokiss somebody, to joke, or to exclaim with a beaming face like achild at a party: "Isn't every thing beautiful?" could be the sober,steady David, who used to plod to and fro with his shoulders alittle bent, and the absent look in his eyes that told of thoughtsabove or beyond the daily task.

It was good to see his mother rejoice over him with an exceedinggreat joy; it was better still to see Letty's eyes follow him withunspeakable love and gratitude in their soft depths; but it was bestof all to see Christie marvel and exult over the discoveries shemade: for, though she had known David for a year, she had never seenthe real man till now.

"Davy, you are a humbug," she said one day when they were making upa bridal order in the greenhouse.

"I told you so, but you wouldn't believe it," he answered, usinglong stemmed rose-buds with as prodigal a hand as if the wedding wasto be his own.

"I thought I was going to marry a quiet, studious, steady-going man;and here I find myself engaged to a romantic youth who flies aboutin the most undignified manner, embraces people behind doors, singsopera airs, - very much out of tune by the way, - and conducts himselfmore like an infatuated Claude Melnotte, than a respectablegentleman on the awful verge of matrimony. Nothing can surprise menow: I'm prepared for any thing, even the sight of my Quakerishlover dancing a jig."

"Just what I've been longing to do! Come and take a turn: it will doyou good;" and, to Christie's utter amazement, David caught herround the waist and waltzed her down the boarded walk with a speedand skill that caused less havoc among the flower-pots than onewould imagine, and seemed to delight the plants, who rustled andnodded as if applauding the dance of the finest double flower thathad ever blossomed in their midst.

"I can't help it, Christie," he said, when he had landed herbreathless and laughing at the other end. "I feel like a boy out ofschool, or rather a man out of prison, and must enjoy my liberty insome way. I'm not a talker, you know; and, as the laws ofgravitation forbid my soaring aloft anywhere, I can only express myjoyfully uplifted state of mind by 'prancing,' as you call it. Nevermind dignity: let's be happy, and by and by I'll sober down."

"I don't want you to; I love to see you so young and happy, only youare not the old David, and I've got to get acquainted with the newone."

"I hope you'll like him better than the frost-bitten 'old David' youfirst knew and were kind enough to love. Mother says I've gone backto the time before we lost Letty, and I sometimes feel as if I had.In that case you will find me a proud, impetuous, ambitious fellow,Christie, and how will that suit?"

"Excellently; I like pride of your sort; impetuosity becomes you,for you have learned to control it if need be; and the ambition isbest of all. I always wondered at your want of it, and longed tostir you up; for you did not seem the sort of man to be contentedwith mere creature comforts when there are so many fine things menmay do. What shall you choose, Davy?"

"I shall wait for time to show. The sap is all astir in me, and I'mready for my chance. I don't know what it is, but I feel very surethat some work will be given me into which I can put my whole heartand soul and strength. I spoilt my first chance; but I know I shallhave another, and, whatever it is, I am ready to do my best, andlive or die for it as God wills."

"So am I," answered Christie, with a voice as earnest and a face asfull of hopeful resolution as his own.

Then they went back to their work, little dreaming as they tiedroses and twined smilax wreaths, how near that other chance was; howsoon they were to be called upon to keep their promise, and how welleach was to perform the part given them in life and death.

The gun fired one April morning at Fort Sumter told many men likeDavid what their work was to be, and showed many women like Christiea new right to claim and bravely prove their fitness to possess.

No need to repeat the story of the war begun that day; it has beenso often told that it will only be touched upon here as one of theexperiences of Christie's life, an experience which did for her whatit did for all who took a share in it, and loyally acted their part.

The North woke up from its prosperous lethargy, and began to stirwith the ominous hum of bees when rude hands shake the hive. Richand poor were proud to prove that they loved their liberty betterthan their money or their lives, and the descendants of the braveold Puritans were worthy of their race. Many said: "It will soon beover;" but the wise men, who had warned in vain, shook their heads,as that first disastrous summer showed that the time for compromisewas past, and the stern reckoning day of eternal justice was athand.

To no home in the land did the great trouble bring a more suddenchange than the little cottage in the lane. All its happy peace wasbroken; excitement and anxiety, grief and indignation, banished thesweet home joys and darkened the future that had seemed so clear.David was sober enough now, and went about his work with a grim setto his lips, and a spark in his eyes that made the three women lookat one another pale with unspoken apprehension. As they sattogether, picking lint or rolling bandages while David read aloudsome dismal tale of a lost battle that chilled their blood and madetheir hearts ache with pity, each woman, listening to the voice thatstirred her like martial music, said within herself: "Sooner orlater he will go, and I have no right to keep him." Each tried to beready to make her sacrifice bravely when the time came, and eachprayed that it might not be required of her.

David said little, but they knew by the way he neglected his gardenand worked for the soldiers, that his heart was in the war. Dayafter day he left Christie and his sister to fill the orders thatcame so often now for flowers to lay on the grave of some dear, deadboy brought home to his mother in a shroud. Day after day he hurriedaway to help Mr. Power in the sanitary work that soon claimed allhearts and hands; and, day after day, he came home with whatChristie called the "heroic look" more plainly written on his face.All that first summer, so short and strange; all that first winter,so long and hard to those who went and those who stayed, Davidworked and waited, and the women waxed strong in the new atmosphereof self-sacrifice which pervaded the air, bringing out the sturdyvirtues of the North.

"How terrible! Oh, when will it be over!" sighed Letty one day,after hearing a long list of the dead and wounded in one of thegreat battles of that second summer.

"Never till we have beaten!" cried David, throwing down the paperand walking about the room with his head up like a war-horse whosmells powder. "It is terrible and yet glorious. I thank heaven Ilive to see this great wrong righted, and only wish I could do myshare like a man."

"That is natural; but there are plenty of men who have fewer tiesthan you, who can fight better, and whose places are easier to fillthan yours if they die," said Christie, hastily.

"But the men who have most to lose fight best they say; and to mythinking a soldier needs a principle as well as a weapon, if he isto do real service."

"As the only son of a widow, you can't be drafted: that's onecomfort," said Letty, who could not bear to give up the brother lostto her for so many years.

"I should not wait for that, and I know mother would give herwidow's mite if she saw that it was needed."

"Yes, Davy." The soft, old voice answered steadily; but the feeblehand closed instinctively on the arm of this only son, who was sodear to her. David held it close in both of his, saying gratefully:"Thank you, mother;" then, fixing his eyes on the younger yet notdearer women, he added with a ring in his voice that made theirhearts answer with a prompt "Ay, ay!" in spite of love or fear:

"Now listen, you dear souls, and understand that, if I do thisthing, I shall not do it hastily, nor without counting well thecost. My first and most natural impulse was to go in the beginning;but I stayed for your sakes. I saw I was not really needed: Ithought the war would soon be over, and those who went then could dothe work. You see how mistaken we were, and God only knows when theend will come. The boys - bless their brave hearts! - have done nobly,but older men are needed now. We cannot sacrifice all the gallantlads; and we who have more to lose than they must take our turn andtry to do as well. You own this; I see it in your faces: then don'thold me back when the time comes for me to go. I must do my part,however small it is, or I shall never feel as if I deserved the loveyou give me. You will let me go, I am sure, and not regret that Idid what seemed to me a solemn duty, leaving the consequences to theLord!"

"Yes, David," sister and sweetheart answered, bravely forgetting inthe fervor of the moment what heavy consequences God might see fitto send.

"Good! I knew my Spartans would be ready, and I won't disgrace them.I've waited more than a year, and done what I could. But all thewhile I felt that I was going to get a chance at the hard work, andI've been preparing for it. Bennet will take the garden andgreen-house off my hands this autumn for a year or longer, if Ilike. He's a kind, neighborly man, and his boy will take my placeabout the house and protect you faithfully. Mr. Power cannot bespared to go as chaplain, though he longs to desperately; so he isnear in case of need, and with your two devoted daughters by you,mother, I surely can be spared for a little while."

"Only one daughter near her, David: I shall enlist when you do,"said Christie, resolutely.

"You mean it?"

"I mean it as honestly as you do. I knew you would go: I saw yougetting ready, and I made up my mind to follow. I, too, haveprepared for it, and even spoken to Mrs. Amory. She has gone asmatron of a hospital, and promised to find a place for me when I wasready. The day you enlist I shall write and tell her I am ready."

There was fire in Christie's eyes and a flush on her cheek now, asshe stood up with the look of a woman bent on doing well her part.David caught her hands in his, regardless of the ominous bandagesthey held, and said, with tender admiration and reproach in hisvoice:

"You wouldn't marry me when I asked you this summer, fearing youwould be a burden to me; but now you want to share hardship anddanger with me, and support me by the knowledge of your nearness.Dear, ought I to let you do it?"

"You will let me do it, and in return I will marry you whenever youask me," answered Christie, sealing the promise with a kiss thatsilenced him.

He had been anxious to be married long ago, but when he asked Mr.Power to make him happy, a month after his engagement, that wisefriend said to them:

"I don't advise it yet. You have tried and proved one another asfriends, now try and prove one another as lovers; then, if you feelthat all is safe and happy, you will be ready for the greatest ofthe three experiments, and then in God's name marry."

"We will," they said, and for a year had been content, studying oneanother, finding much to love, and something to learn in the art ofbearing and forbearing.

David had begun to think they had waited long enough, but Christiestill delayed, fearing she was not worthy, and secretly afflicted bythe thought of her poverty. She had so little to give in return forall she received that it troubled her, and she was sometimes temptedto ask Uncle Enos for a modest marriage portion. She never had yet,and now resolved to ask nothing, but to earn her blessing by doingher share in the great work.

"I shall remember that," was all David answered to that last promiseof hers, and three months later he took her at her word.

For a week or two they went on in the old way; Christie did herhousework with her head full of new plans, read books on nursing,made gruel, plasters, and poultices, till Mrs. Sterling pronouncedher perfect; and dreamed dreams of a happy time to come when peacehad returned, and David was safe at home with all the stars and barsa man could win without dying for them.

David set things in order, conferred with Bennet, petted hiswomankind, and then hurried away to pack boxes of stores, visitcamps, and watch departing regiments with a daily increasingcertainty that his time had come.

One September day he went slowly home, and, seeing Christie in thegarden, joined her, helped her finish matting up some delicateshrubs, put by the tools, and when all was done said with unusualgentleness:

"Come and walk a little in the lane."

She put her arm in his, and answered quickly:

"You've something to tell me: I see it in your face."

"Dear, I must go."

"Yes, David."

"And you?"

"I go too."

"Yes, Christie."

That was all: she did not offer to detain him now; he did not denyher right to follow. They looked each other bravely in the face amoment, seeing, acknowledging the duty and the danger, yet ready todo the one and dare the other, since they went together. Thenshoulder to shoulder, as if already mustered in, these faithfulcomrades marched to and fro, planning their campaign.

Next evening, as Mrs. Sterling sat alone in the twilight, a tall manin army blue entered quietly, stood watching the tranquil figure fora moment, then went and knelt down beside it, saying, with a mostunsoldierly choke in the voice:

"I've done it, mother: tell me you're not sorry."

But the little Quaker cap went down on the broad shoulder, and theonly answer he heard was a sob that stirred the soft folds over thetender old heart that clung so closely to the son who had lived forher so long. What happened in the twilight no one ever knew; butDavid received promotion for bravery in a harder battle than any hewas going to, and from his mother's breast a decoration moreprecious to him than the cross of the Legion of Honor from a royalhand.

When Mr. Power presently came in, followed by the others, they foundtheir soldier standing very erect in his old place on the rug, withthe firelight gleaming on his bright buttons, and Bran staring athim with a perplexed aspect; for the uniform, shorn hair, trimmedbeard, and a certain lofty carriage of the head so changed hismaster that the sagacious beast was disturbed.

Letty smiled at him approvingly, then went to comfort her mother whocould not recover her tranquillity so soon. But Christie stoodaloof, looking at her lover with something more than admiration inthe face that kindled beautifully as she exclaimed:

"O David, you are splendid! Once I was so blind I thought you plain;but now my 'boy in blue' is the noblest looking man I ever saw. Yes,Mr. Power, I've found my hero at last! Here he is, my knight withoutreproach or fear, going out to take his part in the grandest battleever fought. I wouldn't keep him if I could; I'm glad and proud tohave him go; and if he never should come back to me I can bear itbetter for knowing that he dutifully did his best, and left theconsequences to the Lord."

Then, having poured out the love and pride and confidence thatenriched her sacrifice, she broke down and clung to him, weeping asso many clung and wept in those hard days when men and women gavetheir dearest, and those who prayed and waited suffered almost asmuch as those who fought and died.

When the deed was once done, it was astonishing what satisfactionthey all took in it, how soon they got accustomed to the change, andwhat pride they felt in "our soldier." The loyal frenzy fell uponthe three quiet women, and they could not do too much for theircountry. Mrs. Sterling cut up her treasured old linen without amurmur; Letty made "comfort bags" by the dozen, put up jelly, andsewed on blue jackets with tireless industry; while Christieproclaimed that if she had twenty lovers she would send them all;and then made preparations enough to nurse the entire party.

David meantime was in camp, getting his first taste of martial life,and not liking it any better than he thought he should; but no oneheard a complaint, and he never regretted his "love among theroses," for he was one of the men who had a "principle as well as aweapon," and meant to do good service with both.

It would have taken many knapsacks to hold all the gifts showeredupon him by his friends and neighbors. He accepted all that came,and furnished forth those of his company who were less favored.Among these was Elisha Wilkins, and how he got there should be told.

Elisha had not the slightest intention of enlisting, but Mrs.Wilkins was a loyal soul, and could not rest till she had sent asubstitute, since she could not go herself. Finding that Lishashowed little enthusiasm on the subject, she tried to rouse him bypatriotic appeals of various sorts. She read stirring accounts ofbattles, carefully omitting the dead and wounded; she turned out,baby and all if possible, to cheer every regiment that left; and wasnever tired of telling Wash how she wished she could add ten yearsto his age and send him off to fight for his country like a man.

But nothing seemed to rouse the supine Elisha, who chewed his quidlike a placid beast of the field, and showed no sign of a properspirit.

"Very well," said Mrs. Wilkins resolutely to herself, "ef I can'tmake no impression on his soul I will on his stommick, and see howthat'll work."

Which threat she carried out with such skill and force that Lishawas effectually waked up, for he was "partial to good vittles," andCynthy was a capital cook. Poor rations did not suit him, and hedemanded why his favorite dishes were not forthcoming.

"We can't afford no nice vittles now when our men are sufferin' so.I should be ashamed to cook 'em, and expect to choke tryin' to eat'em. Every one is sacrificin' somethin', and we mustn't be slack indoin' our part, - the Lord knows it's precious little, - and therewon't be no stuffin' in this house for a consid'able spell. Ef Icould save up enough to send a man to do my share of the fightin', Ishould be proud to do it. Anyway I shall stint the family and sendthem dear brave fellers every cent I can git without starvin' thechildren."

"Now, Cynthy, don't be ferce. Things will come out all right, and itain't no use upsettin' every thing and bein' so darneduncomfortable," answered Mr. Wilkins with unusual energy.

"Yes it is, Lisha. No one has a right to be comfortable in suchtimes as these, and this family ain't goin' to be ef I can help it,"and Mrs. Wilkins set down her flat-iron with a slam which plainlytold her Lisha war was declared.

He said no more but fell a thinking. He was not as unmoved as heseemed by the general excitement, and had felt sundry manly impulsesto "up and at 'em," when his comrades in the shop discussed thecrisis with ireful brandishing of awls, and vengeful pounding ofsole leather, as if the rebels were under the hammer. But theselfish, slothful little man could not make up his mind to bravehardship and danger, and fell back on his duty to his family as areason for keeping safe at home.

But now that home was no longer comfortable, now that Cynthy hadsharpened her tongue, and turned "ferce," and now - hardest blow ofall - that he was kept on short commons, he began to think he mightas well be on the tented field, and get a little glory along withthe discomfort if that was inevitable. Nature abhors a vacuum, andwhen food fell short patriotism had a chance to fill the achingvoid. Lisha had about made up his mind, for he knew the value ofpeace and quietness; and, though his wife was no scold, she was theruling power, and in his secret soul he considered her a veryremarkable woman. He knew what she wanted, but was not going to behurried for anybody; so he still kept silent, and Mrs. Wilkins beganto think she must give it up. An unexpected ally appeared however,and the good woman took advantage of it to strike one last blow.

Lisha sat eating a late breakfast one morning, with a small son ateither elbow, waiting for stray mouthfuls and committing pettylarcenies right and left, for Pa was in a brown study. Mrs. Wilkinswas frying flap-jacks, and though this is not considered an heroicalemployment she made it so that day. This was a favorite dish ofLisha's, and she had prepared it as a bait for this cautious fish.To say that the fish rose at once and swallowed the bait, hook andall, but feebly expresses the justice done to the cakes by thatlong-suffering man. Waiting till he had a tempting pile of thelightest, brownest flapjacks ever seen upon his plate, and waswatching an extra big bit of butter melt luxuriously into the warmbosom of the upper one, with a face as benign as if some of themolasses he was trickling over them had been absorbed into hisnature, Mrs. Wilkins seized the propitious moment to sayimpressively:

"David Sterlin' has enlisted!"

"Sho! has he, though?"

"Of course he has! any man with the spirit of a muskeeter would."

"Well, he ain't got a family, you see."

"He's got his old mother, that sister home from furrin' partssomewheres, and Christie just going to be married. I should like toknow who's got a harder family to leave than that?"

"Six young children is harder: ef I went fifin' and drummin' off,who 'd take care of them I'd like to know?"

"I guess I could support the family ef I give my mind to it;" andMrs. Wilkins turned a flapjack with an emphasis that caused her lordto bolt a hot triangle with dangerous rapidity; for well he knewvery little of his money went into the common purse. She neverreproached him, but the fact nettled him now; and something in thetone of her voice made that sweet morsel hard to swallow.

"'Pears to me you 're in ruther a hurry to be a widder, Cynthy,shovin' me off to git shot in this kind of a way," growled Lisha,ill at ease.

"I'd ruther be a brave man's widder than a coward's wife, any day!"cried the rebellious Cynthy: then she relented, and softly slid twohot cakes into his plate; adding, with her hand upon his shoulder,"Lisha, dear, I want to be proud of my husband as other women be oftheirs. Every one gives somethin', I've only got you, and I want todo my share, and do it hearty."

She went back to her work, and Mr. Wilkins sat thoughtfully strokingthe curly heads beside him, while the boys ravaged his plate, withno reproof, but a half audible, "My little chaps, my little chaps!"

She thought she had got him, and smiled to herself, even while agreat tear sputtered on the griddle at those last words of his.

Imagine her dismay, when, having consumed the bait, her fish gavesigns of breaking the line, and escaping after all; for Mr. Wilkinspushed back his chair, and said slowly, as he filled his pipe:

"I'm blest ef I can see the sense of a lot of decent men going offto be froze, and starved, and blowed up jest for them confoundedniggers."

He got no further, for his wife's patience gave out; and, leavingher cakes to burn black, she turned to him with a face glowing likeher stove, and cried out:

"Lisha, ain't you got no heart? can you remember what Hepsey toldus, and call them poor, long-sufferin' creeters names? Can you thinkof them wretched wives sold from their husbands; them children asclear as ourn tore from their mothers; and old folks kep slavineighty long, hard years with no pay, no help, no pity, when they gitpast work? Lisha Wilkins, look at that, and say no ef you darst!"

Mrs. Wilkins was a homely woman in an old calico gown, but her face,her voice, her attitude were grand, as she flung wide the door ofthe little back bedroom. and pointed with her tin spatula to thesight beyond.

Only Hepsey sitting by a bed where lay what looked more like ashrivelled mummy than a woman. Ah! but it was that old mother workedand waited for so long: blind now, and deaf; childish, and half deadwith many hardships, but safe and free at last; and Hepsey's blackface was full of a pride, a peace, and happiness more eloquent andtouching than any speech or sermon ever uttered.

Mr. Wilkins had heard her story, and been more affected by it thanhe would confess: now it came home to him with sudden force; thethought of his own mother, wife, or babies torn from him stirred himto the heart, and the manliest emotion he had ever known caused himto cast his pipe at his feet, put on his hat with an energetic slap,and walk out of the house, wearing an expression on his usuallywooden face that caused his wife to clap her hands and cryexultingly:

"I thought that would fetch him!"

Then she fell to work like an inspired woman; and at noon asumptuous dinner "smoked upon the board;" the children were scrubbedtill their faces shone; and the room was as fresh and neat as anyapartment could be with the penetrating perfume of burnt flapjacksstill pervading the air, and three dozen ruffled nightcapsdecorating the clothes-lines overhead.

"Tell me the instant minute you see Pa a comin', and I'll dish upthe gravy," was Mrs. Wilkins's command, as she stepped in with a cupof tea for old "Harm," as she called Hepsey's mother.

"He's a comin', Ma!" called Gusty, presently.

"No, he ain't: it's a trainer," added Ann Lizy.

"Yes, 'tis Pa! oh, my eye! ain't he stunnin'!" cried Wash, strickenfor the first time with admiration of his sire.

Before Mrs. Wilkins could reply to these conflicting rumors herhusband walked in, looking as martial as his hollow chest and thinlegs permitted, and, turning his cap nervously in his hands, saidhalf-proudly, half-reproachfully:

"Now, Cynthy, be you satisfied?"

"Oh, my Lisha! I be, I be!" and the inconsistent woman fell upon hisbuttony breast weeping copiously.

If ever a man was praised and petted, admired and caressed, it wasElisha Wilkins that day. His wife fed him with the fat of the land,regardless of consequences; his children revolved about him withtireless curiosity and wonder; his neighbors flocked in to applaud,advise, and admire; every one treated him with a respect mostgrateful to his feelings; he was an object of interest, and withevery hour his importance increased, so that by night he felt like aCommander-in-Chief, and bore himself accordingly. He had enlisted inDavid's regiment, which was a great comfort to his wife; for thoughher stout heart never failed her, it grew very heavy at times; andwhen Lisha was gone, she often dropped a private tear over thebroken pipe that always lay in its old place, and vented heremotions by sending baskets of nourishment to Private Wilkins, whichcaused that bandy-legged warrior to be much envied and cherished byhis mates.

"I'm glad I done it; for it will make a man of Lisha; and, if I'vesent him to his death, God knows he'll be fitter to die than if hestayed here idlin' his life away."

Then the good soul openly shouldered the burden she had borne solong in secret, and bravely trudged on alone.

"Another great battle!" screamed the excited news-boys in thestreets. "Another great battle!" read Letty in the cottage parlor."Another great battle!" cried David, coming in with the war-horseexpression on his face a month or two after he enlisted.

The women dropped their work to look and listen; for his visits werefew and short, and every instant was precious. When the firstgreetings were over, David stood silent an instant, and a suddenmist came over his eyes as he glanced from one beloved face toanother; then he threw back his head with the old impatient gesture,squared his shoulders, and said in a loud, cheerful voice, with asuspicious undertone of emotion in it, however:

"My precious people, I've got something to tell you: are you ready?"

They knew what it was without a word. Mrs. Sterling clasped herhands and bowed her head. Letty turned pale and dropped her work;but Christie's eyes kindled, as she answered with a salute:

"Ready, my General."

"We are ordered off at once, and go at four this afternoon. I've gota three hours' leave to say good-by in. Now, let's be brave andenjoy every minute of it."

"We will: what can I do for you, Davy?" asked Christie, wonderfullysupported by the thought that she was going too.

"Keep your promise, dear," he answered, while the warlike expressionchanged to one of infinite tenderness.

"What promise?"

"This;" and he held out his hand with a little paper in it. She sawit was a marriage license, and on it lay a wedding-ring. She did nothesitate an instant, but laid her own hand in his, and answered withher heart in her face:

"I'll keep it, David."

"I knew you would!" then holding her close he said in a tone thatmade it very hard for her to keep steady, as she had vowed she woulddo to the last: "I know it is much to ask, but I want to feel thatyou are mine before I go. Not only that, but it will be a help andprotection to you, dear, when you follow. As a married woman youwill get on better, as my wife you will be allowed to come to me ifI need you, and as my" - he stopped there, for he could not add - "asmy widow you will have my pension to support you."

She understood, put both arms about his neck as if to keep him safe,and whispered fervently:

"Nothing can part us any more, not even death; for love like ourswill last for ever."

"Then you are quite willing to try the third great experiment?"

"Glad and proud to do it." "With no doubt, no fear, to mar yourconsent." "Not one, David." "That's true love, Christie!"

Then they stood quite still for a time, and in the silence the twohearts talked together in the sweet language no tongue can utter.Presently David said regretfully:

"I meant it should be so different. I always planned that we'd bemarried some bright summer day, with many friends about us; thentake a happy little journey somewhere together, and come back tosettle down at home in the dear old way. Now it's all so hurried,sorrowful, and strange. A dull November day; no friends but Mr.Power, who will be here soon; no journey but my march to Washingtonalone; and no happy coming home together in this world perhaps. Canyou bear it, love?"

"Have no fear for me: I feel as if I could bear any thing just now;for I've got into a heroic mood and I mean to keep so as long as Ican. I've always wanted to live in stirring times, to have a part ingreat deeds, to sacrifice and suffer something for a principle or aperson; and now I have my wish. I like it, David: it's a grand timeto live, a splendid chance to do and suffer; and I want to be in itheart and soul, and earn a little of the glory or the martyrdom thatwill come in the end. Surely I shall if I give you and myself to thecause; and I do it gladly, though I know that my heart has got toache as it never has ached yet, when my courage fails, as it will byand by, and my selfish soul counts the cost of my offering after theexcitement is over. Help me to be brave and strong, David: don't letme complain or regret, but show me what lies beyond, and teach me tobelieve that simply doing the right is reward and happiness enough."

Christie was lifted out of herself for the moment, and lookedinspired by the high mood which was but the beginning of a noblerlife for her. David caught the exaltation, and gave no furtherthought to any thing but the duty of the hour, finding himselfstronger and braver for that long look into the illuminated face ofthe woman he loved.

"I'll try," was all his answer to her appeal; then proved that hemeant it by adding, with his lips against her cheek: "I must go tomother and Letty. We leave them behind, and they must be comforted."

He went, and Christie vanished to make ready for her wedding,conscious, in spite of her exalted state of mind, that every thingwas very hurried, sad, and strange, and very different from thehappy day she had so often planned.

"No matter, we are 'well on't for love,' and that is all we reallyneed," she thought, recalling with a smile Mrs. Wilkins's advice.

"David sends you these, dear. Can I help in any way?" asked Letty,coming with a cluster of lovely white roses in her hand, and a worldof affection in her eyes.

"I thought he'd give me violets," and a shadow came over Christie'sface.

"But they are mourning flowers, you know."

"Not to me. The roses are, for they remind me of poor Helen, and thefirst work I did with David was arranging flowers like these for adead baby's little coffin."

"My dearest Christie, don't be superstitious: all brides wear roses,and Davy thought you'd like them," said Letty, troubled at herwords.

"Then I'll wear them, and I won't have fancies if I can help it. ButI think few brides dress with a braver, happier heart than mine,though I do choose a sober wedding-gown," answered Christie, smilingagain, as she took from a half-packed trunk her new hospital suit ofsoft, gray, woollen stuff.

"Won't you wear the pretty silvery silk we like so well?" askedLetty timidly, for something in Christie's face and manner impressedher very much.

"No, I will be married in my uniform as David is," she answered witha look Letty long remembered.

"Mr. Power has come," she said softly a few minutes later, with ananxious glance at the clock.

"Go dear, I'll come directly. But first" - and Christie held herfriend close a moment, kissed her tenderly, and whispered in abroken voice: "Remember, I don't take his heart from you, I onlyshare it with my sister and my mother."

"I'm glad to give him to you, Christie; for now I feel as if I hadpartly paid the great debt I've owed so long," answered Lettythrough her tears.

Then she went away, and Christie soon followed, looking very like aQuaker bride in her gray gown with no ornament but delicate frillsat neck and wrist, and the roses in her bosom.

"No bridal white, dear?" said David, going to her.

"Only this," and she touched the flowers, adding with her hand onthe blue coat sleeve that embraced her: "I want to consecrate myuniform as you do yours by being married in it. Isn't it fitter fora soldier's wife than lace and silk at such a time as this?"

"Much fitter: I like it; and I find you beautiful, my Christie,"whispered David, as she put one of her roses in his button-hole.

"Then I'm satisfied."

"Mr. Power is waiting: are you ready, love?"

"Quite ready."

Then they were married, with Letty and her mother standing besidethem, Bennet and his wife dimly visible in the door-way, and poorBran at his master's feet, looking up with wistful eyes, half humanin the anxious affection they expressed.

Christie never forgot that service, so simple, sweet, and solemn;nor the look her husband gave her at the end, when he kissed her onlips and forehead, saying fervently, "God bless my wife!"

A tender little scene followed that can better be imagined thandescribed; then Mr. Power said cheerily:

"One hour more is all you have, so make the most of it, dearlybeloved. You young folks take a wedding-trip to the green-house,while we see how well we can get on without you."

"THEN THEY WERE MARRIED."

David and Christie went smiling away together, and if they shed anytears over the brief happiness no one saw them but the flowers, andthey loyally kept the secret folded up in their tender hearts.

Mr. Power cheered the old lady, while Letty, always glad to serve,made ready the last meal David might ever take at home.

A very simple little marriage feast, but more love, good-will, andtender wishes adorned the plain table than is often found at weddingbreakfasts; and better than any speech or song was Letty's brokenwhisper, as she folded her arms round David's empty chair when noone saw her, "Heaven bless and keep and bring him back to us."

How time went that day! The inexorable clock would strike twelve sosoon, and then the minutes flew till one was at hand, and the lastwords were still half said, the last good-byes still unuttered.

"I must go!" cried David with a sort of desperation, as Letty clungto one arm, Christie to the other.

"I shall see you soon: good-by, rny husband," whispered Christie,setting him free.

"Give the last kiss to mother," added Letty, following her example,and in another minute David was gone.

At the turn of the lane, he looked back and swung his cap; all wavedtheir hands to him; and then he marched away to the great workbefore him, leaving those loving hearts to ask the unanswerablequestion: "How will he come home?"

Christie was going to town to see the regiment off, and soonfollowed with Mr. Power. They went early to a certain favorablespot, and there found Mrs. Wilkins, with her entire family perchedupon a fence, on the spikes of which they impaled themselves atintervals, and had to be plucked off by the stout girl engaged toassist in this memorable expedition.

"Yes, Lisha 's goin', and I was bound he should see every one of hisblessed children the last thing, ef I took 'em all on my back. Heknows where to look, and he's a goin' to see seven cheerful faces ashe goes by. Time enough to cry byme by; so set stiddy, boys, andcheer loud when you see Pa," said Mrs. Wilkins, fanning her hotface, and utterly forgetting her cherished bonnet in the excitementof the moment.

"I hear drums! They're comin'!" cried Wash, after a long half hour'swaiting had nearly driven him frantic.

The two younger boys immediately tumbled off the fence, and werewith difficulty restored to their perches. Gusty began to cry, AnnElizy to wave a minute red cotton handkerchief, and Adelaide to kickdelightedly in her mother's arms.

"Jane Carter, take this child for massy sake: my legs do tremble soI can't h'ist her another minute. Hold on to me behind, somebody,for I must see ef I do pitch into the gutter," cried Mrs. Wilkins,with a gasp, as she wiped her eyes on her shawl, clutched therailing, and stood ready to cheer bravely when her conquering herocame.

Wash had heard drums every five minutes since he arrived, but thistime he was right, and began to cheer the instant a red cockadeappeared at the other end of the long street.

It was a different scene now than in the first enthusiastic, hopefuldays. Young men and ardent boys filled the ranks then, brave byinstinct, burning with loyal zeal, and blissfully ignorant of allthat lay before them.

Now the blue coats were worn by mature men, some gray, all grave andresolute; husbands and fathers with the memory of wives and childrentugging at their heart-strings; homes left desolate behind them, andbefore them the grim certainty of danger, hardship, and perhaps acaptivity worse than death. Little of the glamour of romance aboutthe war now: they saw what it was, a long, hard task; and here werethe men to do it well.

Even the lookers-on were different. Once all was wild enthusiasm andglad uproar; now men's lips were set, and women's smileless even asthey cheered; fewer handkerchiefs whitened the air, for wet eyesneeded them; and sudden lulls, almost solemn in their stillness,followed the acclamations of the crowd. All watched with quickenedbreath and proud souls that living wave, blue below, and bright witha steely glitter above, as it flowed down the street and away tojoin the sea of dauntless hearts that for months had rolled upagainst the South, and ebbed back reddened with the blood of menlike these.

As the inspiring music, the grand tramp drew near, Christie felt theold thrill and longed to fall in and follow the flag anywhere. Thenshe saw David, and the regiment became one man to her. He was pale,but his eyes shone, and his whole face expressed that two of thebest and bravest emotions of a man, love and loyalty, were at theirheight as he gave his new-made wife a long, lingering look thatseemed to say:

"I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more."

Christie smiled and waved her hand to him, showed him his weddingroses still on her breast, and bore up as gallantly as he, resolvedthat his last impression of her should be a cheerful one. But whenit was all over, and nothing remained but the trampled street, thehurrying crowd, the bleak November sky, when Mrs. Wilkins satsobbing on the steps like Niobe with her children scattered abouther, then Christie's heart gave way, and she hid her face on Mr.Power's shoulder for a moment, all her ardor quenched in tears asshe cried within herself:

"No, I could not bear it if I was not going too!"