ves
ourselves, and I don't suppose we'll have any important movements along
this line for a while."

"But there'll be big fighting somewhere," said Dick.

CHAPTER XI. A FAMILY AFFAIR

Two days after the battle of Antietam, Dick went with Colonel Winchester
to Washington on official duty. His nerves, shaken so severely by that
awful battle, were not yet fully restored and he was glad of the little
respite, and change of scene. The sights of the city and the talk of men
were a restorative to him.

The capital was undoubtedly gay. The deep depression and fear that
had hung over it a few weeks ago were gone. Men had believed after the
Second Manassas that Lee might take Washington and this fear was not
decreased when he passed into Maryland on what seemed to be an invasion.
Many had begun to believe that he was invincible, that every Northern
commander whoever he might be, would be beaten by him, but Antietam,
although there were bitter complaints that Lee might have been destroyed
instead of merely being checked, had changed a sky of steel into a sky
of blue.

Washington was not only gay, it was brilliant. Life flowed fast and it
was astonishingly vivid. A restless society, always seeking something
new flitted from house to house. Dick, young and impressionable, would
have been glad to share a little in it, but his time was too short. He
went once with Colonel Winchester to the theatre, and the boy who had
thrice seen a hundred and fifty thousand men in deadly action hung
breathless over the mimic struggles of a few men and women on a painted
stage.

The second day after his arrival he received a letter from his mother
that had been awaiting him there. It had come by the way of Louisville
through the Northern lines, and it was long and full of news. Pendleton,
she said, was a sad town in these days. All of the older boys and
young men had gone away to the armies, and many of them had been killed
already, or had died in hospitals. Here she gave names and Dick's heart
grew heavy, because in this fatal list were old friends of his.

It was not alone the boys and young men who had gone, wrote Mrs. Mason,
but the middle-aged men, too. Dr. Russell had kept the Pendleton Academy
open, but he had no pupil over sixteen years of age. There were no
trustees, because they had all gone to the war. Senator Culver had been
killed in the fighting in Tennessee, but she heard that Colonel Kenton
was alive and well and with