n trying to hinder her from getting
affronted.'

'I've thought what to do for you, Ave. There's the Irish woman, Katty
Blake--her husband has been killed. She is rough enough, but tender in
her way; and she must do something for herself and her child.'

'Her husband killed!'

'Yes, at Summerville. I thought you had heard it. Mordaunt wrote to
me to tell her; and I shall never forget her wailing at his dying away
from his country. It was not lamentation for herself, but that he
should have died far away from his own people.'

'She is not long from the old country; I should like to have her if--if
we can afford it. For if the dividends don't come soon from that
building company, Cora, I don't know where to turn--'

'Oh, they must come. Father has been writing to Rufus about the
arrangements. Besides, those Irish expect less, and understand old
country manners better, if you can put up with their breakages.'

'I could put up with anything to please Henry, and save Minna's little
hard-worked bones.'

'I will send her to-morrow. Is it not Minna's day of ague?'

'Yes, poor dear. That is always the day we get into trouble.'

'I never saw a child with such an instinct for preventing variance, or
so full of tact and pretty ways; yet I have seen her tremble under her
coaxing smile, that even Mis' Shillabeer can't resist.'

'See, see!' cried Ella, hurrying in, 'surely our contingent is not
coming home!'

'No,' said Cora, hastening to the door, 'these must be a reinforcement
marching to take the train at Winiamac.'

'Marching?' said Ella, looking up archly at her. 'We didn't let our
volunteers march in that way.'

They were sturdy bearded backwoodsmen, rifle on shoulder, and with
grave earnest faces; but walking rather than marching, irregularly
keeping together, or straggling, as they chose.

'Your volunteers!' cried Cora, her eyes flashing; 'theirs was toy work!
These are bound for real patriotic war!' and she clasped her hands
together, then waved her handkerchief.

'It is sad,' said Averil, who had moved to the window, 'to see so many
elderly faces--men who must be the prop of their families.'

'It is because ours is a fight of men, not of children; not one of your
European wars of paltry ambition, but a war of principle!' cried Cora,
with that intensity of enthusiasm that has shed so much blood in the
break-up of the Great Republic.

'They do look as Cromwell's Ironsides may have done,' said Ave