orgot that it was cold. She went with
outstretched arms to meet her husband. Dare and Luis were with him.
They were black with the smoke of battle. Their clothing was torn and
bloodstained; the awful light of the fierce struggle was still upon
their faces. But they walked like heroes, and the glory of the deeds
they had done crowned with its humanity, made them appear to the women
that loved them but a little lower than the angels.

Doctor Worth held his wife close to his heart and kissed her tears of
joy away, and murmured upon her lips the tenderest words a woman ever
hears--the words a man never perfectly learns till he has loved his wife
through a quarter of a century of change, and sorrow, and anxiety.
And what could Antonia give Dare but the embrace, the kiss, the sweet
whispers of love and pride, which were the spontaneous outcome of both
hearts?

There was a moment's hesitation on the part of Luis and Isabel. The
traditions of caste and country, the social bonds of centuries, held
them. But Isabel snapped them asunder. She looked at Luis. His eyes were
alight with love for her, his handsome face was transfigured with the
nobility of the emotions that possessed him. In spite of his disordered
dress, he was incomparably handsome. When he said, "Angel mio!" and bent
to kiss her hand, she lifted her lovely face to his, she put her arms
around his neck, she cried softly on his breast, whispering sweet little
diminutives of affection and pride. Such hours as followed are very rare
in this life; and they are nearly always bought with a great price--paid
for in advance with sorrow and anxiety, or earned by such faithful
watching and patient waiting as touches the very citadel of life.

The men were hungry; they had eaten nothing all day. How delicious was
their meal! How happy and merry it made the Senora, and Antonia, and
Isabel, to see them empty dish after dish; to see their unaffected
enjoyment of the warm room, and bright fire, of their after-dinner
coffee and tobacco. There was only one drawback to the joy of the
reunion--the absence of Jack.

"His disappointment will be greater than ours," said Jack's father. "To
be present at the freeing of his native city, and to bring his first
laurels to his mother, was the brightest dream Jack had. But Jack is a
fine rider, and is not a very fine marksman; so it was decided to send
him with Houston to the Convention. We expected him back before the
attack on the city beg