sometimes, standing on her steps, she
could hear the distant sound of drums, catch a glimpse far to the
eastward of some regiment bound South, the long rippling line of
bayonets, a flutter of colour where the North was passing on God's
own errand. And love of country became a passion.

Stephen came sometimes, but his news of Berkley was always
indefinite, usually expressed with a shrug and emphasised in
silences.

Colonel Arran was still in Washington, but he wrote her every day,
and always he asked whether Berkley had come. She never told him.

Like thousands and thousands of other women in New York she did
what she could for the soldiers, contributing from her purse,
attending meetings, making havelocks, ten by eight, for the
soldiers' caps, rolling bandages, scraping lint in company with
other girls of her acquaintance, visiting barracks and camps and
"soldiers' rests," sending endless batches of pies and cakes and
dozens of jars of preserves from her kitchen to the various
distributing depots.

Sainte Ursula's Church sent out a call to its parishioners; a
notice was printed in all the papers requesting any women of the
congregation who had a knowledge of nursing to meet at the rectory
for the purpose of organisation. And Ailsa went and enrolled
herself as one who had had some hospital experience.

Sickness among the thousands of troops in the city there already
was, also a few cases of gunshots in the accident wards incident on
the carelessness or ignorance of raw volunteers. But as yet in the
East there had been no soldier wounded in battle, no violent death
except that of the young colonel of the 1st Fire Zouaves, shot down
at Alexandria.

So there was no regular hospital duty asked of Ailsa Paige, none
required; and she and a few other women attended a class of
instruction conducted by her own physician, Dr. Benton, who
explained the simpler necessities of emergency cases and coolly
predicted that there would be plenty of need for every properly
instructed woman who cared to volunteer.

So the ladies of Sainte Ursula's listened very seriously; and some
had enough of it very soon, and some remained longer, and finally
only a small residue was left--quiet, silent, attentive women of
various ages who came every day to hear what Dr. Benton had to tell
them, and write it down in their little morocco notebooks. And
these, after a while, became the Protestant sisterhood of Sainte
Ursula, and wore, on du