ne could barely feel the faint pulsation
at Willie Walton's wrist, and as she put her ear to his lips, a long, last
shuddering sigh escaped him--the battle of life was ended. Willie's Relief
had come. The young sentinel passed to his Eternal Rest.

"The picket's off duty for ever."

Tears dropped on the still face as the nurse cut several locks of curling
hair that clustered round the boyish temples, and took from the motionless
heart the loved picture which had been so often and so tenderly kissed in
the fitful light of camp-fires. Irene covered the noble head, the fair,
handsome features, with her handkerchief, and, waking Andrew, pointed to
the body--left her own ward, and entered one beyond the passage.

It was smaller, but similar in arrangement to the room where she had
passed the night. A candle was sputtering in its socket, and the cold,
misty, white dawn stared in at the eastern window upon rows of cots and
unquiet, muttering sleepers. There, in the centre of the room, with her
head bowed on the table, sat, or rather leaned, Electra, slumbering
soundly, with her scarlet shawl gathered about her shoulders--her watch
grasped in one hand, and the other holding a volume open at
"Hesperid-AEgle."

Irene lifted the black curls that partially veiled the flushed neck, and
whispered--

"Electra, wake up! I am going home."

"Is it light yet, out of doors? Ah, yes--I see! I have been asleep exactly
fifteen minutes--gave the last dose of medicine at four o'clock. How is the
boy? I am almost afraid to ask."

"Dead. Willie lived till daylight."

"Oh! how sad! how discouraging! I went to your door twice and looked in,
but once you were praying, and the last time you had your face down on
Willie's pillow, and as I could do nothing, I came back. Dr. Whitmore told
me he would die, and it only made me suffer to look at what I could not
relieve. I am thankful my cases are all doing well; that new prescription
has acted magically on Mr. Hadley yonder, who has pneumonia. Just feel his
skin--soft and pleasant as a child's."

"I have some directions to leave with Martha, about giving quinine before
the doctor comes down, and then I shall go home. Are you ready?"

"Yes. I have a singular feeling about my temples, and an oppression when I
talk--shouldn't wonder if I have caught cold."

"Electra, did you see Harvey last night?"

"No. Where did he come from?"

"He is chaplain in a regiment near Richmond, and said he wou