ustained with the thought that
in giving you to the country I have given more than any one else. I know
that you will do something that will make me still prouder of you, and
my presentiments, which never fail me, assure me that you will return to
me safely."

His face showed a little disappointment with the answer.

She reached above her head, and breaking off a bud handed it to him,
saying in the words of Juliet:

"Sweet, good-night:
This bud of love, by Summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower, when next we meet."

He kissed the bud, and put it in his bosom; kissed her again
passionately, and descended the hill to prepare for his departure in the
morning.

She was with the rest of the village at the depot to bid the company
good-bye, and was amazed to find how far the process of developing the
bud into the flower had gone in her heart since parting with her lover.
Her previous partiality and admiration for him appeared now very tame
and colorless, beside the emotions that stirred her at the sight of
him marching with erect grace at the head of his company. But while all
about her were tears and sobs, and modest girls revealing unsuspecting
attachments in the agitation of parting, her eyes were undimmed. She
was proud and serene, a heightening of the color in her cheeks being the
only sign of unusual feeling. Harry came to her for a moment, held
her hand tightly in his, took the bud from his bosom, touched it
significantly with his lips, and sprang upon the train which was
beginning to move away.

The days that followed were halcyon for her. While the other women of
Sardis, whose loved ones were gone, were bewailing the dangers they
would encounter, her proud spirit only contemplated the chances that
Harry would have for winning fame. Battles meant bright laurels for him
in which she would have a rightful share.

Her mental food became the poetry of love, chivalry and glorious war.
The lyric had a vivid personal interest. Tales of romantic daring and
achievement were suggestions of possibilities in Harry's career. Her
waking hours were mainly spent, book in hand, under the old apple-tree
that daily grew dearer to her.

The exalted mood in which we found her was broken in upon by the sound
of some one shutting the gate below very emphatically. Looking down she
saw her father approaching with such visible signs in face and demeanor
of strong excitement that she arose and went to h