t say when the verses should be finished; and so, I think,
did her husband. We should have taken the hint which tactful Doctor
Beaugarcon had meant, I began to believe, to give us in that whispered
remark of his. But it had been given too lightly, and so we sat and
heard the ode out. I am sure that the poetess, wrapped in the thoughts
of her own composition, had lost sight of all but the phrasing of her
poem and the strong feelings which it not unmusically voiced; there
Is no other way to account for her being willing to read it in Mrs.
Braintree's presence.

Whatever gayety had filled me when the Boston lady had clashed with Juno
was now changed to deprecation and concern. Indeed, I myself felt
almost as if I were being physically struck by the words, until mere
bewilderment took possession of me; and after bewilderment, a little,
a very little, light, which, however, rapidly increased. We were the
victors, we the North, and we had gone upon our way with songs and
rejoicing--able to forget, because we were the victors. We had our
victory; let the vanquished have their memory. But here was the cry of
the vanquished, coming after forty years. It was the time which at
first bewildered me; Juno had seen the war, Juno's bitterness I could
comprehend, even if I could not comprehend her freedom in expressing it,
but the poetess could not be more than a year or two older than I was;
she had come after it was all over. Why should she prolong such memories
and feelings? But my light increased as I remembered she had not written
this for us, and that if she had not seen the flames of war, she had
seen the ashes; for the ashes I had seen myself here in Kings Port, and
had been overwhelmed by the sight, forty years later, more overwhelmed
than I could possibly say to Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, or Mrs. Weguelin,
or anybody. The strain of sitting and waiting for the end made my hands
cold and my head hot, but nevertheless the light which had come enabled
me to bend instantly to Mrs. Braintree and murmur a great and abused
quotation to her:--

"Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner."

But my petition could not move her. She was too old; she had seen the
flames of war; and so she said to her husband:--

"Edward, will you please help me upstairs?"

And thus the lame, irreconcilable lady left the room with the assistance
of her unhappy warrior, who must have suffered far more keenly than I
did.

This departure left us all