nd almost as soon as the war began he set about that work which has been
done by self-denying Christians of all ages,--the relief of suffering. He
visited with comfort the widow and the fatherless, and many a night in
the hospital he sat through beside the dying, Yankee and Rebel alike, and
wrote their last letters home.

And Yankee and Rebel alike sought his help and counsel in time of
perplexity or trouble, rather than hotheaded advice from their own
leaders.

Mr. Brinsmade's own carriage was drawn up at his door; and that gentleman
himself standing on the threshold. He came down his steps bareheaded in
the wet to hand Virginia from her carriage.

Courteous and kind as ever, he asked for her father and her aunt as he
led her into the house. However such men may try to hide their own trials
under a cheerful mien, they do not succeed with spirits of a kindred
nature. With the others, who are less generous, it matters not. Virginia
was not so thoughtless nor so selfish that she could not perceive that a
trouble had come to this good man. Absorbed as she was in her own
affairs, she forgot some of them in his presence. The fire left her
tongue, and to him she could not have spoken harshly even of an enemy.
Such was her state of mind, when she was led into the drawing-room. From
the corner of it Anne arose and came forward to throw her arms around her
friend.

"Jinny, it was so good of you to come. You don't, hate me?"

"Hate you, Anne dear!"

"Because we are Union," said honest Anne, wishing to have no shadow of
doubt.

Virginia was touched. "Anne," she cried, "if you were German, I believe I
should love you."

"How good of you to come. I should not have dared go to your house,
because I know that you feel so deeply. You--you heard?"

"Heard what?" asked Virginia, alarmed.

"That Jack has run away--has gone South, we think. Perhaps," she cried,
"perhaps he may be dead." And tears came into the girl's eyes.

It was then that Virginia forgot Clarence. She drew Anne to the sofa and
kissed her.

"No, he is not dead," she said gently, but with a confidence in her voice
of rare quality. "He is not dead, Anne dear, or you would have heard."

Had she glanced up, she would have seen Mr. Brinsmade's eye upon her. He
looked kindly at all people, but this expression he reserved for those
whom he honored. A life of service to others had made him guess that, in
the absence of her father, this girl had come to him for he