se yet fresh on her wife's cheek. I had
known her from childhood; very nearly of the same age, and the children
of neighbors, we had been inseparable; of course in my first college
vacation, finding her grown tall and womanly, I had entertained for her
a devoted boyish passion, and had gone from her presence, one August
night, mad with rejection, and wild with what I called despair. But
_that_ passed, and we had been good friends ever since--she the
confidential one, to whom I related my varied college love affairs,
listening ever with a tender, genial sympathy. I had no sister, and
Grace Jones (I am sorry, but her name _was_ Jones) was dear to me as
one. Two years of professional study had kept me away from my village
home, and a few words came once in a long while, in my mother's letters
'to assure me of Grace's remembrance and regard.' A little of the elder
sister's advising tone amused my one and twenty years and my incipient
moustache amazingly; and I resolved, when I saw her, to convince her of
my dignity--to patronize her. But the notes that called me home were too
clarion-like for a relapse into puppyism. My country spoke my name, and
I arose a man, and 'put away childish things.' I came home to say
farewell. A regiment was forming there, I enlisted, and a few days
before our departure, I stood in the village church, looking and
listening while Grace promised eternal fidelity to Harry Fanning. I was
a stranger to him. He had come to Danville after my departure, winning
from all golden opinions, and from Grace a woman's priceless heart. She
gave him freely to his country, and denied not her hand to his parting
prayer. I had had time only to say farewell to her, and the old footing
had not been restored, but I _think_ she spoke to the major of me, for
he soon sought me, giving me genial friendship and sympathy, and
procuring for me, as I have related, my commission. I had seen her but
once since she came to Camp Alabama, and she gave me warm and kindly
welcome as I came in, the last of the group, having found in my tent
some unexpected employment. Being a soldier, I shall not shock my fair
readers if I confess that it was--buttons. Ah! me, I am frivolous. But I
linger in the spirit of that happy hour. Grace's chair was shaded by a
gracefully draped flag; the major stood near her, his love for her as
visible in his eye as his cordial kindness for us. To me, in honor of my
'juniority,' as Mrs. Fanning said, was assign