lieve nothing, unless it comes from your
dear lips." The girl's voice was very earnest as she made the promise.

Brave words! How easy to have faith, and swear before high heaven when
strong arms are clasped about a yielding form, and eyes look into eyes
seeking depths deeper than wells fashioned by the hands of men.

They strolled side by side, and exchanged vows, till twilight fell and
the cold shadows darkened all the earth about them, and struck a chill to
the girl's heart. She clung to her lover, broken-hearted. Gone was the
Spartan self-possession, the patriotic self-denial that was ready to
offer up the love of a lifetime on the red altar of Mars. As he pressed
his lips to her cheek and his hard breathing sounded in her ears, she
seemed to hear the roaring of cannon, the clatter of hoofs, the rumble of
artillery over bloodstained turf, the cries of men calling to one another
in blind anger, shouting, cursing, moaning, and Dick wailing aloud in
agony. She recovered herself with a start as a clock in the distance
struck the hour, and reminded both of the flight of time.

At last, it was good-bye. The very end, the dreadful wrench--the absolute
adieu!

CHAPTER VIII

A TIRESOME PATIENT

Vivian Ormsby's illness dragged on from days into weeks. There was little
or nothing to be done but nursing, and Dora took her share willingly. He
was a very courteous, considerate person when the girl he loved was at
his bedside, but very trying to the professional nurses. He insisted upon
attending to business matters as soon as he recovered from his long
period of unconsciousness, but the physicians strictly forbade visitors
of any kind.

The patient was not allowed to read newspapers or hear news of the war.
All excitement was barred, for it was one of the worst cases of
concussion of the brain the specialists had ever known. Ormsby could not
help watching Dora's face in the mornings, when the papers arrived; he
saw her hand tremble and her eyes grow dim as she read. When the first
lists of killed and wounded came to hand, she read with ashen face and
quivering lip, but, when the name she sought, and dreaded to find, was
not there, the color came back, and she glowed again with the joy and
pride of youth.

He allowed himself idly to imagine that this was his home, and Dora his
wife. It would always be like this--Dora at hand with her gentle,
soothing touch upon his brow, her light, quick step, that he knew so
wel