he bay. He walked with bent head and folded arms, as one in
painful thought.

A slight girlish figure came gliding towards him from the open doorway.
"Papa, dear, dear papa," murmured a voice tremulous with emotion, "you are
very sad to-night; would that your daughter could comfort you!"

He paused in his walk, took her in his arms and folded her close to his
heart.

"Thank you, darling. Yes, I am sad, as we all are. Would that I could
comfort you, and keep all sorrow from your life. Nay, that is not a right
wish, for 'whom the Lord _loveth_ He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son
whom He receiveth.' 'As many as I love I rebuke and chasten.'"

"Yes, papa, those words make me more than willing to bear trials. But oh,
how dreadful, how dreadful, to know that our countrymen are already
engaged in spilling each other's blood!"

"Yes, that is harrowing enough; but that it should be also our near and
dear relations! Elsie, I am thinking of my young brothers: they are not
Christians; nor is my poor old father. How can they bear the trials just
at hand? How unfit they are to meet death, especially in the sudden, awful
form in which it is like to meet those who seek the battle-field.
Daughter, you must help me pray for them, pleading the promise, 'If two of
you shall agree.'"

"I will, papa; and oh, I do feel deeply for them. Poor Walter and poor,
poor grandpa. I think he loves you best of all his sons, papa; but it
would be very terrible to him to have the others killed or maimed."

"Yes, it would indeed. Arthur is his mother's idol, and I dare say she now
almost regrets that he has now so entirely recovered from his lameness as
to be fit for the army."

He drew her to a seat. "The babies are in bed, I suppose?"

"Yes, papa; I left my darlings sleeping sweetly. I am trying to train them
to regular habits and early hours, as you did me."

"That is right."

"Papa, it is so sweet to be a mother! to have my little Elsie in my lap,
as I had but a few moments since, and feel the clasp of her arms about my
neck, or the tiny hands patting and stroking my face, the sweet baby lips
showering kisses all over it, while she coos and rejoices over me; Mamma!
mamma, my mamma! Elsie's dear mamma! Elsie's own sweet pretty mamma.' Ah,
though our hearts ache for the dear land of our birth, we still have many
many blessings left."

"We have indeed."

Mr. Travilla, Rose, and Horace now joined them, and the last-named
besieged his fat