d Mr. Blumenthal.

They bade him "Good night," and smiled at each other to hear his
strong voice, as it receded in the distance, still singing, "His soul
is marching on."

"Now I will go to Mamita," said Flora. "Her gentle spirit suffers in
these days. This morning, when she saw a company of soldiers marching
by, and heard the boys hurrahing, she said to me so piteously, 'O
Flora, these are wild times.' Poor Mamita! she's like a dove in a
tornado."

"_You_ seemed to be strong as an eagle while you were singing,"
responded her husband.

"I felt like a drenched humming-bird when Mr. Bright came in,"
rejoined she; "but he and the music together lifted me up into the
blue, as your Germans say."

"And from that height can you say to me, 'Obey the call of duty,
Florimond'?"

She put her little hand in his and answered, "I can. May God protect
us all!"

Then, turning to her children, she said: "I am going to bring Mamita;
and presently, when I go away to be alone with papa a little while, I
want you to do everything to make the evening pleasant for Mamita. You
know she likes to hear you sing, 'Now Phoebus sinketh in the west.'"

"And I will play that Nocturne of Mendelssohn's that she likes so
much," replied Rosen Blumen. "She says I play it almost as well as
Aunt Rosa."

"And she likes to hear me sing, 'Once on a time there was a king,'"
said Lila. "She says she heard _you_ singing it in the woods a long
time ago, when she hadn't anybody to call her Mamita."

"Very well, my children," replied their mother. "Do everything you can
to make Mamita happy; for there will never be such another Mamita."

* * * * *

During the anxious months that followed Mr. Blumenthal's departure,
the sisters and their families were almost daily at the rooms of the
Sanitary Commission, sewing, packing, or writing. Henriet had become
expert with the sewing-machine, and was very efficient help; and even
Tulee, though far from skilful with her needle, contrived to make
dozens of hospital slippers, which it was the pride of her heart to
deliver to the ladies of the Commission. Chloe added her quota of
socks, often elephantine in shape, and sometimes oddly decorated with
red tops and toes; but with a blessing for "the boys in blue" running
through all the threads. There is no need to say how eagerly they
watched for letters, and what a relief it was to recognize the writing
of beloved hands, feeling each ti