become
but a fit service for her love.

There was a step in the hall and Mrs. Lightfoot rustled in with her wedding
dress.

"You may take it and welcome, child," she said, as she gave it into Betty's
arms. "I can't help feeling that there was something providential in my
selecting white when my taste always leaned toward a peach-blow brocade.
Well, well, who would have believed that I was buying a flag as well as a
frock? If I'd even hinted such a thing, they would have said I had the
vapours."

Betty accepted the gift with her pretty effusion of manner, and went
downstairs to where Hosea was waiting for her with the big carriage. As she
drove home in a happy revery, her eyes dwelt contentedly on the sunburnt
August fields, and the thought of war did not enter in to disturb her
dreams.

Once a line of Confederate cavalrymen rode by at a gallop and saluted her
as her face showed at the window. They were strangers to her, but with the
peculiar feeling of kinship which united the people of the South, she
leaned out to wish them "God speed" as she waved her handkerchief.

When, a little later, she turned into the drive at Uplands, it was to find,
from the prints upon the gravel, that the soldiers had been there before
her. Beyond the Doric columns she caught a glimpse of a gray sleeve, and
for a single instant a wild hope shot up within her heart. Then as the
carriage stopped, and she sprang quickly to the ground, the man in gray
came out upon the portico, and she saw that it was Jack Morson.

"I've come for Virginia, Betty," he began impulsively, as he took her hand,
"and she promises to marry me before the battle."

Betty laughed with trembling lips. "And here is the dress," she said gayly,
holding out the yellowed silk.

VI

ON THE ROAD TO ROMNEY

After a peaceful Christmas, New Year's Day rose bright and mild, and Dan as
he started from Winchester with the column felt that he was escaping to
freedom from the tedious duties of camp life.

"Thank God we're on the war-path again," he remarked to Pinetop, who was
stalking at his side. The two had become close friends during the dull
weeks after their first battle, and Bland, who had brought a taste for the
classics from the lecture-room, had already referred to them in pointless
jokes as "Pylades and Orestes."

"It looks mighty like summer," responded Pinetop cheerfully. He threw a
keen glance up into the blue clouds, and then sniffed suspiciously at