faded out of military life as it
has done in these days of short service, heterogeneous mixing, and
transient campaigns; when the esprit de corps was strong, and long
experience stamped noteworthy professional characteristics even on rank
and file; while the miller's visitors had the additional advantage of
being picked men.

They could not stay so long to-night as on that earlier and more cheerful
occasion, and the final adieus were spoken at an early hour. It was no
mere playing at departure, as when they had gone to Exonbury barracks,
and there was a warm and prolonged shaking of hands all round.

'You'll wish the poor fellows good-bye?' said Bob to Anne, who had not
come forward for that purpose like the rest. 'They are going away, and
would like to have your good word.'

She then shyly advanced, and every man felt that he must make some pretty
speech as he shook her by the hand.

'Good-bye! May you remember us as long as it makes ye happy, and forget
us as soon as it makes ye sad,' said Sergeant Brett.

'Good-night! Health, wealth, and long life to ye!' said Sergeant-major
Wills, taking her hand from Brett.

'I trust to meet ye again as the wife of a worthy man,' said Trumpeter
Buck.

'We'll drink your health throughout the campaign, and so good-bye t'ye,'
said Saddler-sergeant Jones, raising her hand to his lips.

Three others followed with similar remarks, to each of which Anne
blushingly replied as well as she could, wishing them a prosperous
voyage, easy conquest, and a speedy return.

But, alas, for that! Battles and skirmishes, advances and retreats,
fevers and fatigues, told hard on Anne's gallant friends in the coming
time. Of the seven upon whom these wishes were bestowed, five, including
the trumpet-major, were dead men within the few following years, and
their bones left to moulder in the land of their campaigns.

John lingered behind. When the others were outside, expressing a final
farewell to his father, Bob, and Mrs. Loveday, he came to Anne, who
remained within.

'But I thought you were going to look in again before leaving?' she said
gently.

'No; I find I cannot. Good-bye!'

'John,' said Anne, holding his right hand in both hers, 'I must tell you
something. You were wise in not taking me at my word that day. I was
greatly mistaken about myself. Gratitude is not love, though I wanted to
make it so for the time. You don't call me thoughtless for what I did?'

'My dear A