fortunate haven."

"How little like it seems it now!" returned Mildred. "The general
sorrow, alone, might well weigh down the stoutest heart. That cause
which you have made mine, Arthur, to which you have bestowed your life,
and which, for your sake," she added proudly, "should have this feeble
arm of mine, could it avail, is it not even now trembling on the verge
of ruin? Have not your letters, one after another told me of the sad
train in which misfortunes have thickened upon the whole people? of
defeat, both north and south, and, at this very time, of disgraceful
mutiny of whole regiments under the very eye of Washington--that
Washington who loves his country and her soldiers as a husband loves his
bride, and a father his children. Have not those, to whom we all looked
for champions, turned into mere laggards in the war for freedom? Oh,
Arthur, do you not remember that these are the thoughts, the very words,
which were penned by your own hand, for my especial meditation? How can
I but fear that the good end is still far off? How can I but feel some
weight upon my heart?"

"You have grown overwise, Mildred, in these ruminations. I am to blame
for this, that in my peevish humor, vexed with the crosses of the day, I
should have written on such topics to one so sensitive as yourself."

"Still it is true, Arthur, all report confirms it."

"These things do not become your entertainment, Mildred. Leave the
public care to us. There are bold hearts, love, and strong arms yet to
spare for this quarrel. We have not yet so exhausted our mines of
strength, but that much rough ore still lies unturned to the sun, and
many an uncouth lump of metal remains to be fashioned for serviceable
use. History tells of many a rebound from despondency, so sudden and
unreckoned, that the wisest men could see in it no other spring than the
decree of God. He will fight the battle of the weak, and set the right
upon a sure foundation."

"The country rings," said Mildred, again taking the more cheerful hue of
her lover's hopes, and following out, with an affectionate sympathy, his
tone of thought, "with anticipation of victory from Gates's southern
march."

"That may turn out to be a broken reed," interrupted Butler, as if
thinking aloud, and struck by Mildred's reference to a subject that had
already engrossed his thoughts; "they may be deceived, Washington would
have put a different man upon that service. I would have a leader in
such a war