ray that
what she so greatly feared might not come upon her.

It was after Katy's betrothal, and she was in New York, happy to hear
news from Mark, and perhaps to see him ere long, for, as nearly as she
could trace him from reports of others, he was last at Andersonville.
But there was no mention made of him, no sign by which she could tell
whether he still lived, or had long since been relieved from suffering.

Early the next day she heard that Mattie Tubbs had received a telegram
from Tom, who would soon be at home, while later in the day Bell Cameron
came around to say that Bob was living, but had lost his right arm, and
was otherwise badly crippled. It never occurred to Helen to ask if this
would make a difference. She only kissed Bell fondly, rejoicing at her
good fortune, and then sent her back to the home where there were hot
discussions regarding the propriety of receiving into the family a
maimed and crippled member.

"It was preposterous to suppose Bob would expect it," Juno said, while
the mother admitted that it was a most unfortunate affair, as indeed the
whole war had proved. For her part, she sometimes wished the North had
let the South go quietly when they wanted to, and so saved thousands of
lives, and prevented the country from being flooded with cripples, and
negroes, and calls for more men and money. On the whole, she rather
doubted the propriety of re-electing Lincoln, and prolonging the war;
and she certainly doubted the propriety of giving her daughter to a
cripple. There was Arthur Grey, who had lately been so attentive; he was
a wealthier man than Lieutenant Bob, and if Bell had any discretion she
would take him in preference to a disfigured soldier.

Such was the purport of Mrs. Cameron's remarks, to which her husband
listened, his eyes blazing with passion, which, the moment she finished,
burst forth in a storm of oaths and invectives against what, with his
pet adjective, he called her "Copperhead principles," denouncing her as
a traitor, reproaching her for the cruelty which would separate her
daughter from Robert Reynolds because he had lost an arm in the service
of his country, and then turning fiercely to Bell with the words:

"But it isn't for you to say whether he shall or shall not have Bell.
She is of age. Let her speak for herself."

And she did speak, the noble, heroic girl, who had listened, with bitter
scorn, to what her mother and sister said, and who now, with elevated
nost