uble and left.

I had become so much interested in Ashton that I had almost ceased my
visits to the other hospitals, except an occasional one to the "Armory
Square," where I had a few friends. I thought I would go over and make
a visit there this afternoon.

I went into ward C, and, after seeing how well my boys were getting
on, I inquired after the lady nurse, Mrs. A., a widow lady, to whom I
had become much attached for her devotion to the soldiers.

"She has gone home to recruit her health; has been away ten days; she
left the day after you were here last," replied one of the boys. "But
we have, just think, in her place a lady from the South--Miss or Mrs.,
indeed I do not know which, for I have never heard her spoken of other
than Emma Mason. But here she comes."

I had time to look at her for several moments before she came to the
patient I was sitting by. She might be seventeen or twenty-seven, I
could not tell. She was dressed in the deepest black--her hair drawn
tightly back from her face, and almost entirely covered by a black
net. Her complexion was a clear olive, but so very pale. Every feature
was very beautiful, but her greatest attraction was her large, dark
blue eyes, shaded by long black lashes. She came up smiling sweetly on
the wounded boy, and said:

"You are looking quite bright, Willie; you have a friend, I see, with
you."

I was then introduced to Emma Mason. When she smiled she looked very
young. I thought her as beautiful a girl as I had ever seen; but in a
few seconds the smile passed off, and there came a look of sorrow--a
yearning, eager gaze--which made her look very much older. I went
round with her to visit the different patients, telling her of my
great interest in the soldiers, and trying to win her confidence. I
was very anxious to know something of her history, but I could gain
nothing; and, giving it up in despair, I bade her good-evening, and
was leaving the ward when she called me and said:

"Will you be kind enough to notice among the soldiers you may meet
from Boston, and if you find this name let me know immediately?"

I took the card and read, "Paul Ashton, 16th Mass. Vol." I started,
and was about telling her where he was, when I was stopped by seeing
the deathly pallor of her face.

She said, scarcely above a whisper:

"Is he living?"

I said I was only about to tell her I felt sure I could hear of him,
as I knew many of that regiment. I felt that I must not tell h