athering her in his arms and kissing her hair, her tear-wet face and
lips. Not a word was spoken; not one was needed! He knew now that her
heart was his, and for weal or woe; for joy or sorrow, their lives must
be as one.

"Don't cry any more, my darling," he whispered at last. "I shall come
back all safe, and then you will be my wife, won't you, Liddy?"

She made no answer, but a small, soft hand crept into one of his, and he
knew his prize was won.

When they were ready to leave the hallowed spot she gathered a bunch of
the spring violets growing there, and kissing them, handed the cluster
to him in silence.

Late that evening when they parted she put one arm caressingly about his
neck and whispered: "Give me all the hours you can, Charlie, before you
must go; they may be all we shall ever have together."

CHAPTER XII.

A DAY IN THE WOODS.

When schoolmates who have studied and played together until almost
maturity reach the parting of their ways a feeling of sadness comes to
them; but when out of such a band there are eighteen of the best young
men about to take part in the horror of war, the occasion becomes doubly
so. The last few weeks passed together by the graduating pupils of
Southton Academy came back to them in after years much like the memory
of a funeral. There were no frolics at noontime or after school; no
mirth and scant laughter.

A few of the girls were known to be carrying aching hearts, and it was
whispered that two or three were engaged to be married to young
soldier-boys now in the academy. Liddy wore a new and heavy plain gold
ring, and when questioned as to its significance quietly answered, as
was her wont: "I have no confessions to make," but those who were
nearest to her and knew her best detected a proud look in her eyes and
drew their own conclusions. It was noticed also that she and Manson were
seldom apart during the noon hour, and invariably walked away from the
academy together. As there were other couples who thus paired off it
caused no comment.

When the last day came the academy was packed with the parents and
friends of pupils, and on Liddy's desk was a bunch of June roses. She
knew whose hand had placed them there. When the final exercises began
she felt herself growing nervous. She had never felt so before, but now
the mingled joy and sorrow of the past four weeks were telling upon her.
There were several patriotic and warlike recitations by the young men,
and