rd to keep the pain out of her
voice: "don't go yet! It's too early, and we have not had a visit for
two weeks. Please sit down and tell me all about it. Can't you trust
me?"

He remained standing and looking earnestly into her upturned face and
pleading eyes for a few moments in silence; then he said:

"Yes, I can trust you, Liddy, and I am not afraid to, either! I am not
afraid to trust you with every thought and impulse that ever came to me,
but I can't bring myself to hurt you," and then he turned away.

His words almost brought the tears to her eyes, but she kept them back.
When he had his coat on and was at the door, she made one more effort.
She clasped his arm with both hands, as if to hold him, and said:

"You have made me very wretched, Charlie! Don't leave me in suspense! I
do not deserve it. No matter what it is, please tell me!"

He remained silent, but with one hand he softly caressed the two little
ones that clasped his arm. Then as her face sank slowly upon them he
stooped suddenly and kissed her hair. "When I come again you shall know
all," he whispered; "good-night!" and he tore himself away.

The meadows were growing green and the first spring violets were in
bloom ere he called again.

To explain his strange mood a little history must be inserted here.

The summer and fall of '61 and the winter and spring of '62 were
momentous in the annals of Southton. Fort Sumter had been fired upon,
and the war for the preservation of the Union had begun. The President's
first call for volunteers had been issued; the Bull Run retreat had
occurred, and the seven days' horror of the Chickahominy swamp, followed
by the battle of Fair Oaks and the siege of Fredericksburg, had startled
the country. Secession was rampant, and Washington was threatened. The
second call for volunteers had come and the entire North was alarmed.

In the spring of '62 came the third call, and by that time the spirit of
patriotism was spreading over Southton. Captain Samuel Woodruff, a born
soldier and a brave man, began to raise a company in that town. It did
not require a great effort, for the best and bravest of her sons rallied
to his call. This spirit even reached the oldest of the academy boys,
and was the cause of Manson's strange reticence with Liddy. Among his
mates were many who openly asserted their intention to enlist. Before
and after school and at noon it was talked about. Some were, like
Manson, the sons of peaceful ti