e he wept with her over the dead body of
him they had lost.

Notwithstanding the wild uproar that had so prevailed, not only
without, but within the place, the portion of the house that was
occupied by the widowed matron and her daughters, was silent as the
grave. All the domestics were either on the staging, or at the loops,
leaving the kitchens and offices deserted. The major first entered a
little ante-chamber, that opened between a store-room, and the
apartment usually occupied by his mother; this being the ordinary means
of approach to her room. Here he paused, and listened quite a minute,
in the hope of catching some sound from within that might prepare him
for the scene he was to meet. Not a whisper, a moan, or a sob could be
heard; and he ventured to tap lightly at the door. This was unheeded;
waiting another minute, as much in dread as in respect, he raised the
latch with some such awe, as one would enter into a tomb of some
beloved one. A single lamp let him into the secrets of this solemn
place.

In the centre of the room, lay stretched on a large table, the manly
form of the author of his being. The face was uppermost, and the limbs
had been laid, in decent order, as is usual with the dead that have
been cared for. No change had been made in the dress, however, the
captain lying in the hunting-shirt in which he had sallied forth; the
crimson tint which disfigured one breast, having been sedulously
concealed by the attention of Great Smash. The passage from life to
eternity had been so sudden, as to leave the usual benignant expression
on the countenance of the corpse; the paleness which had succeeded the
fresh ruddy tint of nature, alone denoting that the sleep was not a
sweet repose, but that of death.

The body of his father was the first object that met the gaze of the
major. He advanced, leaned forward, kissed the marble-like forehead,
with reverence, and groaned in the effort to suppress an unmanly
outbreaking of sorrow. Then he turned to seek the other well-beloved
faces. There sat Beulah, in a corner of the room, as if to seek shelter
for her infant, folding that infant to her heart, keeping her look
riveted, in anguish, on the inanimate form that she had ever loved
beyond a daughter's love. Even the presence of her brother scarce drew
a glance away from the sad spectacle; though, when it at length did,
the youthful matron bowed her face down to that of her child, and wept
convulsively. She was ne