per, for I am
sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed
the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for
some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at
ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look
into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often
returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked
furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle
commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able
to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to
him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon
indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his
request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment
found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the
willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain
silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in
upon their revery.

"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of
yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset."

She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the
summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana
mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the
western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a
moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them.

"Oriana, Arthur is much better now."

"Much better, Harold."

"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow."

"Go, Harold?"

"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops.
I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are
rallying to arms."

"Will you fight, Harold?"

"If needs be."

"Against your countrymen?"

"Against traitors."

"Against me, perhaps."

"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my
hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that
this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye
of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for
some days past?"

Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower
in her hand.

"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our
des