ou and it which even death does not know how to sever!

"I leave all to you, loving you, wishing what you wish, content
with what you give--and take--so that you do give and take and keep
and hold for life.

"It is very dusky; the lights, red and white, glimmer on every
transport. We feel the sea-swell a little. Celia left us, going
ashore at Acquia Creek. She takes the cars to Richmond and then to
Paigecourt. Letty sits beside me on deck. There were two cases of
fever aboard and we went down into a dreadfully ill-smelling cabin
to do what we could. Now we are here on deck again. Some officers
are talking very gaily with Letty. I am ending my letter to
you--wherever you are, my darling, under these big, staring stars
that look down at me out of space. I don't want my ghost to be
blown about up there--unless it belongs to you. That is the only
fear of death I ever have or ever had--that I might die before you
had all of me there is to give."

CHAPTER XV

Toward the end of June, as Claymore's new provisional brigade of
Sykes's division, Fitz John Porter's superb corps d'armee, neared
the designated rendezvous, some particularly dirty veteran
regiments, bivouacked along the fields, crowded to the roadside,
fairly writhing in their scorn and derision.

"Fresh fish! Oh--h! Fresh fi--sh!" they shouted. "My God, boys,
just see them pretty red pants! Mother! Come and look. Oh, papa,
what are they? Sa--ay, would you gentlemen kindly tell us poor old
sodgers what kind ov a hell ov a, dressmaker cut out them
pantalettes? I wish I could go out to play with these nice,
perlite little boys? Oh, children! why _didn't_ you bring your
nursemaids with you?"

The 3rd Zouaves marched past the jeering veterans, grinding their
teeth, but making no effort at retort. They knew well enough by
this time that any attempt to retort would be worse than useless.

As the head of the column of the 8th Lancers appeared from the West
at the forks of the other road, the dingy veterans fairly danced in
malicious delight:

"Excuse us," they simpered, kissing their dirty finger-tips to the
horsemen, "_ex_-cuse us, please, but do tell us how you left dear
old Fift' Avenoo. Them rocking hosses need a leetle new paint
where they sit down, me lords. Hey, you ain't got any old red silk
stockings we can use for guidons, have you? Oh, Alonzo darling!
curl my hair an' wet me with expensive cologne!"

Colonel Egerton's 20th