kly; a pink flush stained her neck and forehead.

"I would not use that wicked flag to protect myse'f," she said
quietly--"nor to save this house, either, Curt. It's only fo' you
and Phil that I care what happens to anything now----"

"Then go North, you bad little rebel!" whispered her husband,
drawing her into his arms. "Paige and Marye have been deserted
long enough; and you've seen sufficient of this war--plenty to last
your lifetime----"

"I saw Ailsa's house burn," she said slowly.

"Marye-mead. When?"

"This mo'ning, Curt. Phil thinks it was the shells from the
gun-boats. It can't be he'ped now; it's gone. So is Edmund
Ruffin's. And I wish I knew where that child, Ailsa, is. I'm that
frightened and mise'ble, Curt----"

An orderly suddenly appeared at the door; her husband kissed her
and hurried away. The outer door swung wide, letting in a brassy
clangour of bugles and a roll of drums, which softened when the
door closed with a snap.

It opened again abruptly, and a thin, gray-garbed figure came in,
hesitated, and Celia turned, staring through her tears:

"Miss Lynden!" she exclaimed. "Is Ailsa here?"

Berkley sat up and leaned forward, looking at her intently from the
mass of bandages.

"Letty!" he said, "where is Mrs. Paige?"

Celia had caught the girl's hands in hers, and was searching her
thin white face with anxious eyes; and Letty shook her head and
looked wonderingly at Berkley.

"Nothing has happened to her," she said. "A Sister of Mercy was
wounded in the field hospital near Azalea, and they sent for Mrs.
Paige to fill her place temporarily. And," looking from Celia to
Berkley, "she is well and unhurt. The fighting is farther west
now. Mrs. Paige heard yesterday that the 8th Lancers were encamped
near Paigecourt and asked me to find Mr. Berkley--and deliver a
letter----"

She smiled, drew from her satchel a letter, and, disengaging her
other hand from Celia's, went over to the bed and placed it in
Berkley's hands.

"She is quite well," repeated Letty reassuringly; and, to Celia:
"She sends her love to you and to your husband and son, and wishes
to know how they are and where their regiment is stationed."

"You sweet little thing!" said Celia, impulsively taking her into
her arms and kissing her pale face. "My husband and my son are
safe and well, thank God, and my cousin, Phil Berkley, is
convalescent, and you may tell my sister-in-law that we all were
worried most to