a
general trembling of evil in the air, made study difficult for the
moment. What signified the course and fate of nations hundreds of
years ago? Our own course and fate filled the horizon. What signified
the power or beauty of my voice, when I had not the heart to send it
up and down like a bird any longer? Where was Preston, and Dr.
Sandford, and Ransom, and what would become of Magnolia? In truth, I
did not know what had become of Ransom. I had not heard from him or of
him in a long time. But these thoughts would not do. I drove them
away. I resolved to mind my work and not read the papers, if I could
help it, and not think about politics or my friends' course in them. I
could do nothing. And in a few months I should be away, out of the
land.

I kept my resolve pretty well. Indeed, I think nothing very particular
happened to disturb it for the next two or three weeks. I succeeded in
filling my head with work and being very happy in it. That is,
whenever I could forget more important things.

CHAPTER XIX.

ENTERED FOR THE WAR.

One evening, I think before the end of April, I asked permission to
spend the evening at Miss Cardigan's. I had on hand a piece of study
for which I wanted to consult certain books which I knew were in her
library. Mlle. Genevieve gave me leave gladly.

"You do study too persevering, m'amie," she said. "Go, and stop to
study for a little while. You are pale. I am afraid your doctor--ce
bon Monsieur le docteur--will scold us all by and by. Go, and do not
study."

But I determined to have my play and my study too.

As I passed through Miss Cardigan's hall, the parlour door, standing
half open let me see that a gentleman was with her. Not wishing to
interrupt any business that might be going on, and not caring also to
be bored with it myself, I passed by and went into the inner room
where the books were. I would study now, I thought, and take my
pleasure with my dear old friend by and by, when she was at leisure. I
had found my books, and had thrown myself down on the floor with one,
when a laugh that came from the front room laid a spell upon my powers
of study. The book fell from my hands; I sat bolt upright, every sense
resolved into that of hearing. What, and who had that been? I
listened. Another sound of a word spoken, another slight inarticulate
suggestion of laughter; and I knew with an assured knowledge that my
friend Cadet Thorold, and no other, was the gentleman in Mi