and yet the suspense was the same. Then when the new year came another
burden was added, for her mother grew worse, and it seemed to Liddy as
if the shadows were thick about her. An event that occurred in the early
spring, and two months after the battle of Tracy City, made a deep
impression on her. Captain Upson, promoted from first lieutenant of
Company E, was wounded at that battle, and dying later, was brought to
Southton for burial. He was universally respected and almost the entire
townsfolk gathered at the church to pay their tribute. Hundreds failed
to gain admission, and it was said to have been the largest funeral ever
known in the town. Liddy had never seen a military funeral and the
ceremonies were sadly impressive. The long service at the church; the
touching words of the minister uttered over the flag-draped coffin, upon
which rested a sword; the sad procession to the cemetery, headed by
muffled drum and melancholy fife mingling their sounds with the tolling
bell, and then the arched arms of soldiers, beneath which the body was
borne; the short prayer; the three volleys; and last of all, lively
music on the return. This feature impressed her as the saddest of all,
for it seemed to say: "Now, we will forget the dead as soon as
possible," which in truth was what it meant in military custom.

It is needless to say as she returned with her father to their now
saddened home, a possible event of similar import in which she must be a
broken-hearted mourner entered her mind. During the next month came
another and far worse blow. Her mother, long an invalid, contracted a
severe cold and, in spite of all possible effort to save her, in three
short days passed away. To even faintly express the anguish of that now
bereaved husband and motherless girl is impossible and shall not be
attempted.

When the funeral was over and they once more sat by the fire in the
sitting-room, as was customary each evening, their pleasant home seemed
utterly desolate, and the tall clock in the hall ticked with far deeper
solemnity. Liddy in fact was, as she felt herself to be, walking
"through the valley and shadow of death." To add to her utter
wretchedness, if that were possible, she had received no letter from
Manson for three weeks, and there were no rifts of sunshine in her
horizon. She wrote him a long account of her loss and all the misery of
mind she was experiencing and then, as she had no address to mail it to,
held the letter