on for such situation having been urged by the
ambitious Mattie, who felt her dignity considerably increased when she
could speak of Brother Tom in company with Messrs. Cameron & Ray. And it
was also a part of the same gratitude which suggested the huge package
of merino and gingham, calico and linen, together with the handsome silk
shawl and black lace veil, which a few days later was left by the
express boy at the door of the farmhouse for Miss Betsy Barlow, who in
a long letter overwhelmed Katy with her thanks, and nearly let out her
visit to New York, as yet a secret to Mrs. Wilford.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE SEVENTH REGIMENT.

Does the reader remember the pleasant spring days of four years ago,
when the thunder of Fort Sumter's bombardment came echoing up to the
Northern hills and across the Western prairies, stopping for a moment
the pulses of the nation, but quickening them again with a mighty power
as from Maine to California man after man arose to smite the maddened
foe trailing our honored flag in the dust? Nowhere, perhaps, was the
excitement so great or the feeling so strong as in New York, when the
Seventh Regiment was ordered on to Washington, its members, who so often
had trodden the streets with a proud step, never faltering or holding
back, but with a nerving of the will and a putting aside of self,
prepared to do their duty. Conspicuous among them was Mark Ray, who,
laughing at his mother's fears, kissed her livid cheek, and then with
a pang remembered Helen--dearer even than his mother--wondering how she
would feel, and thinking the path to danger would be so much easier if
he knew her love was his, that her prayers, her wishes would go with
him, shielding him from harm and bringing him back again to the
sunshine of her presence.

And before he went Mark must know this for certain, chiding himself for
having put it off so long. True she had been sick and confined to her
room for a long while after Aunt Betsy's memorable visit; and when she
was able to go out, Lent had put a stop to her mingling in festive
scenes, so that he had seen but little of her, and had never met her
alone. But he would write that very day. She knew, of course, that he
was going, bidding him Godspeed he was sure, for her whole heart was
with the gallant men who had stood so nobly against the enemy,
surrendering only because they must. She would say that he did well to
go; and she would answer "yes" to the question he would