ake advantage of her situation. All the manhood and
chivalry of his nature rose in her behalf, and, after carefully
revolving the matter, he resolved to win her for his bride, bury her
secret in his Northern home, and hide from his aristocratic relations
all knowledge of her mournful past. One day he said to Iola:--

"This hospital life is telling on you. Your strength is failing, and
although you possess a wonderful amount of physical endurance, you must
not forget that saints have bodies and dwell in tabernacles of clay,
just the same as we common mortals."

"Compliments aside," she said, smiling; "what are you driving at,
Doctor?"

"I mean," he replied, "that you are running down, and if you do not quit
and take some rest you will be our patient instead of our nurse. You'd
better take a furlough, go North, and return after the first frost."

"Doctor, if that is your only remedy," replied Iola, "I am afraid that I
am destined to die at my post. I have no special friends in the North,
and no home but this in the South. I am homeless and alone."

There was something so sad, almost despairing in her tones, in the
drooping of her head, and the quivering of her lip, that they stirred
Dr. Gresham's heart with sudden pity, and, drawing nearer to her, he
said, "Miss Leroy, you need not be all alone. Let me claim the privilege
of making your life bright and happy. Iola, I have loved you ever since
I have seen your devotion to our poor, sick boys. How faithfully you, a
young and gracious girl, have stood at your post and performed your
duties. And now I ask, will you not permit me to clasp hands with you
for life? I do not ask for a hasty reply. Give yourself time to think
over what I have proposed."

CHAPTER IX.

EUGENE LEROY AND ALFRED LORRAINE.

Nearly twenty years before the war, two young men, of French and Spanish
descent, sat conversing on a large verandah which surrounded an ancient
home on the Mississippi River. It was French in its style of
architecture, large and rambling, with no hint of modern improvements.

The owner of the house was the only heir of a Creole planter. He had
come into possession of an inheritance consisting of vast baronial
estates, bank stock, and a large number of slaves. Eugene Leroy, being
deprived of his parents, was left, at an early age, to the care of a
distant relative, who had sent him to school and college, and who
occasionally invited him to spend his vacations at his