t a
kind word--heaping upon him reproaches and wounding his noble heart
to the core? If he did, it was I. Oh, how I have suffered since! Even
when I accused him of cowardice and treachery, in my heart I was proud
of him. Oh! tell me where he is, that I may go to him. I have been
looking for him every moment since the battle. Take me, please?"

"He is at the 'Douglas,' but very sick; I saw him not two hours ago. I
fear any sudden shock, even of joy. You are never absent from his
mind: he has never mentioned your name, but he has told me much. Now,
tell me, will you not, how it is you are here? And then we most devise
a plan to take you to him without too great a shock."

She said:

"These black robes are for my brother. He bade me do what I could for
the suffering and wounded on both sides, and find Paul. I will give
you a letter I received written by him a few days previous to his
death. After you have read it you will then understand better why I am
here."

And leaving the ward for a few moments she returned and handed me the
letter. The writing plainly told that the writer was very weak. I give
it to you, my dear reader, every word; I could not do justice by
relating in my own style:

SISTER--I am wounded, and must die. I have felt it for several
days. The doctor and the kind boys try to cheer me up, but I've
been growing weaker daily. The suffering in my breast is
terrible. I had a Minnie ball pass through my left lung. I have
been very much frightened about dying, and wanted to live; but
last night I had a dream which has produced a great change. Now I
feel sure I shall die, and am content. I am with the Union boys;
they are very kind. The one next me fanned me and rubbed my side
until I fell asleep last night, and slept better than I have
since I've been wounded. Now, darling sister, here is my dream: I
thought I had been fighting, and having been wounded, was carried
off the field and was laid under a large tree; after being there
a little while I felt some one clasp my hand; looking up, I found
Paul, He also had been wounded.

He handed me his canteen, and while drinking I seemed to get
quite easy. There seemed to be a great mist all over us; I could
see nothing for a little while. Again I heard my name called, and
looking up, found the mist had cleared away, and our
great-grandfather (whom I knew well, from the old portrait, which
we used to be