daughter, Alfred Wentworth gazed long and
earnestly at the features of his wife and children, as if to impress
the features of those loved ones still firmer in his mind.

"Attention, battalion!" rang along the line in stentorian tones, and
the voices of the company officers calling "fall in, boys, fall in!"
were heard in the streets. Clasping his wife to his heart, and
imprinting a fond, fond kiss of love upon her cheeks, and embracing
his children, the soldier took his place in the ranks, and after the
necessary commands, the volunteers moved forward. A crowd of their
relatives followed them to the depot of the New Orleans, Jackson and
Great Northern Railroad, and remained until the cars were out of
sight. After the troops had entered, and the train was slowly moving
off, one of the soldiers jumped from the platform, and, embracing a
lady who stood near, exclaimed:

"Farewell, dearest Eva! God bless you and the children--we shall meet
again." As soon as he spoke, Alfred Wentworth sprang into the cars
again and was soon swiftly borne from the city.

Mrs. Wentworth remained standing where her husband had left her, until
the vast crowd had dispersed, and nothing could be seen of the train
but a thin wreath of smoke emerging from the tree-tops in the
distance. Calling the colored nurse, who had followed with the
children, she bade her return home, and accompanied her back to her
now lonely residence.

CHAPTER SECOND.

THE WIFE AND CHILDREN--A VISITOR

The weeks passed slowly to Mrs. Wentworth from the departure of her
husband; but her consciousness that he was performing his duty to his
country, and the letters he wrote from Virginia, cheered her spirits,
and, in a measure, made her forget his absence.

She was alone one evening with her children, who had become the sole
treasures of her heart, and on whom she lavished every attention
possible, when the ringing of the bell notified her of the presence of
a visitor. Calling the servant, she bade her admit the person at the
door. The negro left the room to do her mistress' bidding, and shortly
after, a handsome gentleman of about thirty-five years of age entered.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wentworth," he said, on entering the room. "I
trust yourself and children are in good health."

Mrs. Wentworth rose from her chair, and, slightly inclining her head,
replied: "To what circumstance am I indebted for the honor of this
visit, Mr. Awtry?"

"Nothing very particu