I could sew too much. I wish I had my bread to earn. I wish I was old, ugly, and withered, done with living. I wish I was a nun, or a Shaker, or a Quaker!' With which passionate speech she fell to braiding more furiously than ever. The aunt, without reproof, looked tenderly at the lovely yet dreary face, put out her hand and caressed the childish curls. 'I had a trouble once, India. I was not like you; we were poor; father and mother were alive. It maddened me to sit down by a fireside like this. I thought I should die every sunny day. I could bear nothing that contrasted with the tumult within, that suggested thoughts of love and beauty and warmth. I felt that I must have work. There was no real labor for me to do at home, there were so many of us. So I went governessing, as you know. I had a hard time, but was cured of my folly.' 'I have had no trouble,' said India doggedly; it is this stupid place I'm tired of; this stormless life; these empty days; this wasted strength. I am tired of being 'somebody's wife.' I am nobody's wife,' and her lip twitched as she smiled. 'I know it is a weary life to lead,' said the aunt, ‘a weary life and hard to bear. A house of your own, plenty of money, an aunt to scold both you and the servants, hosts of friends and admirers.' 'Admirers! I hope I may never have another. I reckon them among the insect cares of life.' 'Ah! I wish the door-bell would ring at this moment. You would prick up your ears like a war-horse.' 'I believe it would.' 'Remember I do not deceive myself by fancying I want to do good. I have no desire to do good. I want change, employment. I want to leave these hateful walks and shades and trees.' 'Unformed girls display more vanity than wisdom in starting out as crusaders.' 'I shall write to my old teacher in the North to-morrow,' said India, growing quite eager. 'I have always fancied the life of a governess. I have delighted in reading stories with governess heroines. I have had my share of the ale and cakes of life. Welcome slights, vexations, headaches! Why don't you say something, aunt?' 'You are twenty, India; discreet enough where your heart is not concerned. I can trust you to walk alone.' 'I do not wonder that you care so little to lose me. I am the most silly, maundering, selfish creature that ever lived.' To this speech the aunt made no reply. She was taking off the heel of her sock-perhaps that was the reason. 'But, aunt, I am serious in what I Tell me what you think.' say. ་ 'I think it would be nobler to stay where you are, to conquer your restless spirit, receiving humbly, patiently, whatever Providence sends you. But if you lack strength to do this, if you believe a new sensation to be the best quietus, if you long to see the work of your hands,' find a place in some Western State, and teach for six or eight or ten months. There can be no harm in it, and who knows but in this review of your acquirements you may get humility enough to make you happy, patience enough to keep you peaceful?' It was now Henry's bed-time, and his mother rose up to take him away. After they had gone, India sat for an hour or so, her head sunk upon her hands, a becoming wretchedness embodied in her attitude. The clock struck ten. She started up, and began to prepare for going up The chairs Federals. How dared you come here in the rebel uniform ? ' stairs to her bed-room. were put back, the table carried to its corner, the lamp turned down, the ends of brands in the chimney heaped together and covered with ashes; then she sat down on the rug, with her small, worn BIBLE in her lap, for she was in one of those moods when the holding of it seemed to do more good than the reading; in fact, it was handling rather than study that had tarnished its gilt and rusted its morocco. A mouse squeaked behind the wainscot, a wind surged through the pinesa south wind to her, for her thoughts were 'way down in Dixie.' But as she dreamed and listened, a new sound mingled with the roar the quick stroke of a heel on the paving-stones; it came nearer, was on the step, the porch, at the window; there it paused; a sabre clanked, a gentle tap was heard on the shutter; the slats were so turned that India's scared glance encountered a pair of gleaming points which instinct told her were eyes. Alarmed, but selfpossessed, she went towards them, opened the glass door, and said: 'Who is there?' 'It is I, India,' replied a voice that wavered and thrilled like another note of the pine-tree harp. She immediately undid the other fastenings, and stepped out. Her hand was caught and pressed repeatedly against a frozen moustache, then held where a heart should have beat, but she felt only a pistol. In vain she drew back, the cold hand clasped her tightly. The moonlight showed the figure plainly a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a blue overcoat thrown on his uniform, his hat slouched over his eyes. He took this off directly, revealing a head of fair hair and a handsome face, quite white and wasted. 'Speak to me, India!' he cried suddenly. 'Don't leave me standing here like a fool.' 'If you do not wish to be a prisoner, go away directly. The town is full of 'Then I should say, go to your friends in the town. They will delight to receive, warm, feed, caress you.' 'I could not-I should be discovered; then I have only an hour to stay; let me see you that long. My men are waiting in the woods down yonderthe woods where you and I played, India, when we were children. Playmate, a crust of bread from your hand is the only food and caress I want.' Without a word she led the way into the room, pushed up an easy-chair, and pointed him to it. He was entirely exhausted, for when she rose up from mending the fire with some dry wood which lay in the corner, he was asleep. The blaze leaped up and crackled merrily, gleamed on the rigid folds of her silk dress, and lit up the Sapphic head in her cameo pin. Her hands involuntarily sought each other, and interlaced. Swept by a perfect ecstacy of love and anguish, her breath came in sobs; unuttered longings rushed tumultuously together, clamoring for expression; the essence of twenty years of life was distilled into that moment; the mild light turned to flame as it dropped on the quiet sleeper. She had seen him last in the glowing vigor of splendid health, proud, restive, ambitious; here he sat at her mercy, with wasted chest and haggard face, disappointed, wounded, weary. His lovely hair gleamed against the crimson back of the chair; his poor, dirty hand, hanging languidly down, was thin and blue-veined. With the nice exactness of despair she marked even the sleevebuttons she had given him one Christmas, shining in the tattered wristband; the clumsy boot disguising his elegant foot; the singular shape of his sword, the novel disposition of his shoulderstraps. The woman heart wavered before this touching appeal. What was Patriotism to her? Perhaps, after all, Right was on his side; should it triumph, he would prove a patriot, not a traitor! Could she break her heart and his upon an uncertainty? He moved uneasily, sighed in his dream; the cape of his coat fell over the arm of the chair; upon it was a dark stain that she knew to be blood. Shuddering, she moved back a step or two, fancying she saw him stripping it from the body of some dead Northern boy. The shadowy doubt was gone, Truth was Truth, Honor was Honor; traitor or patriot, she would not be his. room. From the sideboard she took a waiter, covered it with a napkin, and then opened the safe. It so happened that her aunt had entertained some Federal officers at dinner a few days before, and the shelves were still crowded with relics of the feast - uncut pies, slices of cake, huge turkey-bones, beef and ham, delicious bread, half a bottle of wine, and enough oysters in the bottom of a can,for a meal. Force a woman to prepare food for her worst enemy, and she will do her best to make it dainty and inviting. She cannot help it, any more than she can help smiling up into his face when she presents it. There are so few ways in which she can directly aid and comfort his lordship, Man, that she is inclined to make the most of this one. Out of the abundant stores India culled here and there a choice morsel, using tears and sighs for condiments, till the tray was loaded; then taking it up, she marched off to the sitting-room. 'I know what I wish now, · clasped India.' 'I wish that a Yankee musket would spring up out of that blaze and shoot me right through the heart!' He still slept. She moved the table to his side, arranged upon it the lamp and tray; then paused, for how could Taking a candle, she passed into the she wake him to the cruel present? At hall, removed her heeled boots, and least she would soothe that waking. glided with velvet tread up the stairs. She bent over him; her hurried breath The keys were in her aunt's bed-room; stirred his hair; her lips just touched to obtain them was the problem. At his tired eyelids; they sprang open; the door she paused and listened. All his arm -the wounded.one was still, but through the key-hole her. shone a light. She stooped and peeped in-it was the fire burning fiercely. Cautiously turning the bolt, she admitted herself, then stood breathless, shivering till her dress rustled. Her aunt was sleeping, her pale face looking pure and spiritual under the border of her night-cap; one smooth hand, with the marriage-ring on it, rested outside the cover. Little restless Henry was near, having contrived by numerous revolutions to escape the bondage of blanket and quilt. India came up, hurriedly tucked him in, and seized the keys which lay on the round stand by the bedside, went out as she had come, and slipped like a shadow down the steps, through the hall, into the dining She knelt down directly and began toasting a slice of bread on a silver fork. His eye dwelt admiringly upon the lines of beauty her dress made around her, the slim waist, the childish head of tangled curls, and he muttered something about 'This cursed war!' She turned one crimson cheek towards him, and urged him to begin. He was hungry, lover that he was; and so, while she kept toasting slices of bread, to hide her misery, perhaps, he ate and talked. 'India, do you remember how, when I had been hunting all day, I would stop here, instead of going home; my ravenous appetite would not let me go past your gate, and you would bring me in just such suppers as this? How kind and bright you were then! But you never toasted bread for me before; you never came so near to me as you did tonight.' 'You were well and strong then, Max,' she said. 'Now you are tired and in danger. I pity you.' 'You loved me then; now you will not!' he exclaimed as passionately as it is possible for a man to do with a spoonful of oysters on its way to his mouth. India scraped the scorch from her toast, and made no reply. After a pause she said: 'Have you been sick?' 'Not very lately. I am not well, though. I reckon there is something the matter with my lungs.' India gave him one quick, eager glance. He caught it, and smiled. a musing way, talking as much to himself as to her. 'What was it you said to me the morning I told you I had entered the Southern army? 'Had you been unfortunate, I would have clung to you; had you been unfaithful, I would have forgiven you; but false to your country, a traitor to our cause, I tear you from my heart though I should die in the effort.' It was an heroic speech, but somehow I fancied your nature required a more stimulating diet than sublimity.' 'It finds it in a sense of duty.' เ Sense of duty!' he repeated. 'Hear this girl, all force and fire and wilfulness, speak of duty! Take these things away, India; I want to talk to you.' She obeyed, gathering as she moved fresh courage to resist his arguments. 'Do I seem strange and frantic?' 'Yes, you do. I am confused. I hardly know what to say. It is like conversing with a spirit.' 'A disembodied spirit!' he said, glancing towards the emptied tray. 'Go on; I could sit here and listen forever to your sweet, faltering phrases.' 'I have nothing to say; regret and wonder make me dumb.' 'You look pleased, dear. You hope it may be so; you wish me done with danger and pain, and put away to sleep eternally; you would place me beyond the reach of errors and crimes; you know there is no happiness for me in life without you. Well, I consent to go; but you will come to my grave occasionally?' 'I don't know. Will it be a traitor's country, and all that sort of thing, grave?' about as much as I do for a top and marbles; and how crazy I used to be with enthusiasm!' 'That will depend upon our success or defeat. Any how it will be your lover's grave. You will come. It rests me to think of it. I am losing all my manliness. I can't bear cold and wet and hunger-I shrink from them like a girl. It is good to think of lying five feet under ground, a July sun beating on the long grass above me, and you coming in the twilight to dream beside 'Regret and wonder! Do you regret that I am here? Do you wonder where my pride has gone to? O India! I am miserably weak! How ill-health alters a fellow! To-night I care for glory, 'Listen!' said India, raising her head. 'The wind.' 'No,' she said, running hastily to the window and looking out. 'Fly, Max! fly! The soldiers, ever so many of them, are coming down the walk!' She caught his hands frantically, but he lay back in his chair, smiling like a child in her face. 'Max, are you mad? Be quickout at the back-door! They are coming!' 'No, I'll just lie still now, and resist when they come; then they will kill me, and perhaps you will be sorry.' 'O Max! if you love me!' nal. take. 'Again I beg your pardon, Miss RayThere has been some strange misI was sent here much against my He started up, snatched his hat, and will. Good-night,' and he bowed him drew his pistol. 'Good-by! good-by!' she said, pressing him towards the door. 'India, will you marry me?' 'No, I will not. steps!' self out covered with confusion. Next day it was told as a capital joke that an indefinite somebody had seen a mysterious figure lurking about Miss Quick! I hear their Raynal's grounds; that this somebody had aroused the suspicions of the commanding officer, who had dispatched an inferior officer with a file of soldiers to search Miss Raynal's house; that this No need to force him now. With a look of anguish and reproach he darted out. 'God bless you, Max!' she called officer was Miss Raynal's admirer, and after him. It was no time for thought; there stood the waiter. She thrust it behind the what-not, seized a book, and was running to take the chair by the lamp, when her foot caught against something on the carpet. It was his blue overcoat, dropped as he fled. With trembling hand she tucked it behind some other article of furniture, and had just gained her seat when steps came on the porch. They stole cautiously to the window. Her eyes were shaded by her hand, her book open; she felt that some one was looking at her through the slats. The bell tinkled softly, as though pulled by a hesitating hand. Calm, brave, holding her lamp with a steady grasp, she went out. 'What is wanted?' 'Admittance.' She opened wide the great door, bowed with dignity, and motioned the young officer who stood first to enter. He was an acquaintance, and had often before, at more seasonable hours, crossed her threshold. when he found her quietly reading, was so overcome that he withdrew his forces without making his business known. Poor India re-fastened the door, and thankful that her aunt had not been roused, proceeded to remove every trace of her lover's visit. The coat she carried to her room and locked up in a trunk where she kept her most sacred treasures. And all that night she lay awake and thought of Max riding in the cutting wind; of Max sick; of Max dying; of Max trampled under horses' feet, calling feebly for her, and she so far away. A letter to her old teacher went by the next mail, and after an interval of painful expectation the answer came; a place was found in a family in one of the Western States. She was to go immediately, and the engagement was to extend over five months, to be prolonged at pleasure. She accepted without demur, and began her preparations, so mournfully earnest, so desperately stern in her shopping, cutting, sewing, visiting, that 'I beg your pardon, Miss Raynal, but it seemed she was going to another have you company?' 'No; will you walk in ?' Nothing could have been more innocent in appearance than that parlor, a pleasant fire burning on the hearth, a book turned face down on the table. The officer glanced hurriedly around, and then at India, who confronted him with haughtily-lifted head and a look of cool contempt. world. All was ready at last. One February morning, an hour before daylight, she found herself, clothed in a pretty gray travelling suit, kissing little Henry as he slept, and weeping in her aunt's arms, who would get up to see her off, though she knew a headache was the penalty. The stage-horn blew, she was hurried out and packed in, her trunks strapped |