ing, and all necessary preparations were made for immediate
departure.

Mary longed inexpressibly to impart to her cousin what she had learned
respecting Mr. Stewart, but shrank instinctively from reviving hopes
which might never be realized--hopes which Florence had long since
crushed and cast out of her heart as dead. With an earnest prayer
that her cousin might yet be blessed and happy, Mary determined not
to broach the subject at least for a time. Dr, Bryant without delay
apprised the garrison of the rumor which had reached him, and a
courier was immediately despatched to headquarters for reinforcements
sufficient to defend this important fortress--this key of the
state--from the powerful force now advancing to assault it. Horses
were supplied with alacrity, for he had made many and warm friends,
and two large tents, together with a baggage-wagon, were readily
granted to one who so nobly contributed to the relief of the sick,
wounded, and dying.

At length every arrangement was completed, and the next morning
appointed for their departure. Aunt Lizzy had objected at first,
but speedily became reconciled when Dr. Bryant painted, in a graphic
manner, the horrors which were about to ensue.

As the shades of evening came gently on, the girls set out for Mrs.
Carlton's, as from her dwelling they commenced their journey. Aunt
Lizzy remained to give some final direction, and then came a sorrowful
parting with their servants, one of whom took Mary in her arms and
bade God bless her, while the tears rolled over her wrinkled face.
Mary could not repress her own, and she sobbed convulsively. Dr.
Bryant, who had come over for them, laid his hand on the shoulder of
the true-hearted negress, and said:

"Why, Aunt Fanny, you must not excite Miss Irving; she is not strong,
you know, and has a long ride before her to-morrow."

"Oh yes, Doctor, it will do well enough for you to tell me not to cry,
but I can't help it, for I love her as if she was my own child, and if
I thought to see her again I should not grieve so much; but I saw her
mother before her, and I know how she grew pale and thin, and then
took to the sofa, and never rose up till she was carried to her grave;
and can't I see that blessed child going just like her? Oh I it's no
use talking to me; she ain't long for this world, and it's hard--yes,
it's hard for her to die away from old Fanny!" and she covered her
face with her apron, and sobbed aloud.

Mary wiped he