the Sardinian
Ministry. He hoped Victor Emmanuel would send him as Consul to Shanghai.

Mrs. Barton met him at the door with a motherly smile.

"Walk right in the parlor, Dick. It's sweet of you to come so early
to-day. We're all in tears, packing to go. Jennie'll be delighted to see
you. Poor child--she's sick over it all."

Mrs. Barton pressed Dick's hand with the softest touch that reassured
his fears. The only trouble about Mrs. Barton was she was gentle and
friendly to everybody, black and white, old and young, Yankee or
Southerner. She was even sorry for old John Brown when they hung him.

"Poor thing, he was crazy," she said tenderly. "They ought to have sent
him to the asylum."

Try as he might, he couldn't fling off the impression of tragedy the
meeting of Socola with Jennie had produced. He was in a nervous fit to
see and tell her of his love. Why the devil hadn't he done so before
anyhow? They might have been engaged and ready to be married by this
time. They had met when she was sixteen.

Why on earth couldn't he throw off the fool idea that he was going to
lose her? His big fist suddenly closed with resolution.

"I'll not lose her! I'll wring that viper's neck--I'll wade through
blood and death and the fires of h--"

Just as he was plunging waist deep through the flames of the Pit, she
appeared in the door, the picture of wistful, tender beauty.

He rose awkwardly and extended his hand.

"Good morning, Dick!"

"Good morning, Jennie--"

Her hand was hot, her eyes heavy with tears.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"As if you didn't know--I've been saying good-by to some of the dearest
friends I've ever known. It's terrible. I just feel it's the end of the
world--"

He started to say: "Don't worry, Jennie darling, you have me. I love
you!" The thought of it made the cold beads of perspiration suddenly
stand out on his forehead. It was one thing to think such
things--another to say it aloud to a girl with Jennie's serious brown
eyes.

She seemed terribly serious this morning and far away somehow. Never had
he seen her so utterly lovely. The mood of tender seriousness made her
more beautiful than ever. If he only dared to crush her in his arms and
laugh the smiles back into her eyes.

When he spoke it was only a commonplace he managed to blurt out:

"So you're really going to-morrow?"

"Yes--we've telegraphed the boys to come home from school at once and
join us in Montgomery."

He tr