that "he was about joining the
army as first lieutenant in a company composed of the finest young men
in the city."

Helen doubted if this were true, until one day, when driving with her
mother, she met him arrayed in his new uniform, looking so handsome and
proud. He, too, was driving with a brother officer, and as he passed he
lifted his cap in token of recognition; but the olden look which Helen
remembered so well, and which had been wont to make her pulses thrill
with a most exquisite delight, was gone, and Helen felt more than ever
the wide gulf some hand had built between them. The next she heard was
from Mrs. Banker, whose face looked pale and worn as she incidentally
remarked: "I shall be very lonely now that Mark is gone. He left me
to-day for Washington."

There were tears on the mother's face, and her lip quivered as she tried
to keep them back, looking from the window into the street instead of at
her companion, who, overcome with the rush of feeling which swept over
her, laid her face on the sofa arm and sobbed aloud.

"Why, Helen! Miss Lennox, I am surprised! I had supposed--I was not
aware--I did not think you would care," Mrs. Banker exclaimed, coming
closer to Helen, who stammered out: "I beg you will excuse me, I cannot
help it. I care for all our soldiers. It seems so terrible."

At the words "I care for all the soldiers," a shadow of disappointment
flitted over Mrs. Banker's face. She knew her son had offered himself
and been refused, as she supposed, and she believed, too, that Helen had
given publicity to the affair, feeling justly indignant at this breach
of confidence and lack of delicacy in one whom she had liked so much and
whom she still liked in spite of the wounded pride which had prompted
her to seem so cold and distant.

"Perhaps it is all a mistake," she thought, as she continued standing by
Helen, whose tears did not cease, "or it may be she has relented," and
for a moment she felt tempted to ask why her boy had been refused.

But Mark would not be pleased with her interference, she knew, and so
the golden moment fled, and when she left the house the misunderstanding
between herself and Helen was just as wide as ever. Wearily after that
the days passed with Helen until all thoughts of herself were forgotten
in the terrible fear that death was really brooding over the pillow
where Katy lay, insensible to all that was passing around her. The lips
were silent now, and Wilford had noth