Blumen and Lila came in and found them all
weeping; and when their brother pressed them in his arms and whispered
to them the cause of all this sorrow, they cried as if their hearts
were breaking. Then their mother summoned all her resolution, and
became a comforter. While their father talked to them of the nobility
and beauty of self-sacrifice, she kissed them and soothed them with
hopeful words. Then, turning to Mrs. Delano, she tenderly caressed her
faded hair, while she said: "Dearest Mamita, I trust God will restore
to us our precious boy. I will paint his picture as St. George slaying
the dragon, and you shall hang it in your chamber, in memory of what
he said to you."

Alfred, unable to control his emotions, hid himself in the privacy
of his own chamber. He struck his hand wildly against his forehead,
exclaiming, "O my country, great is the sacrifice I make for thee!"
Then, kneeling by the bed where he had had so many peaceful slumbers,
and dreamed so many pleasant dreams, he prayed fervently that God
would give him strength according to his need.

And so he went forth from his happy home, self-consecrated to the
cause of freedom. The women now had but one absorbing interest and
occupation. All were eager for news from the army, and all were busy
working for the soldiers.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

When Mr. King returned from his mournful journey to Washington, he
said to his wife: "I saw George Falkner, and was pleased with him. His
resemblance to poor Gerald is wonderful. I could see no difference,
except a firmer expression of the mouth, which I suppose is owing to
his determined efforts to escape from slavery. Of course, he has not
Gerald's gracefulness; but his bearing seemed manly, and there was
no obvious stamp of vulgarity upon him. It struck me that his
transformation into a gentleman would be an easy process. I was glad
our interview was a hurried one, and necessarily taken up with details
about Gerald's death. It seems he carried him off in his own arms when
he was wounded, and that he did his utmost to stanch the blood. Gerald
never spoke after the bullet struck him, though he pressed his hand,
and appeared to try to say something. When he opened his vest to dress
the wound, he found this."

Rosa looked at it, groaned out, "Poor Gerald!" and covered her face.
It was the photograph of Eulalia, with the upper part shot away. Both
remained for some time with their heads bowed in silence.

After a