n served as General
Porter's messenger.

On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.

XIV

OUT OF SORTS

"Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.

It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling for Dr.
Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was sure that no
other man was received as his companion--not that he was distant, but
that he was not approached. By nature I am affectionate, but at that
time my emotions were severely and almost continually repressed by my
will, because of a condition of nervous sensitiveness in regard to the
possibility of an exposure of my peculiarity, so that I often wondered
whether the Doctor fully understood the love and reverence I bore him.

On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say, on the
morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William and Mary
College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices, as he said,
for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the open air, busily
engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when I saw a man coming
toward me. It was Willis.

"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.

"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"

"That depends."

"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought out a
camp-stool; Willis remained standing.

"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear about
your being detailed for special work?"

"So," said I.

"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"

Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be; besides, I
had observed that he called me Berwick rather than Jones. His attitude
chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about myself. We talk about
personal matters to personal friends. I suppose, too, that I am peculiar
in such things; at any rate, so great was my distaste to talking now
with Willis on the subject in question that I did not succeed in hiding
my feeling.

"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."

"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal matters,
perhaps too personal."

"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then he asked,
"How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"

It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not of the
little distinct