in the battle of Luka,
and that his mother, hearing of it just as she was convalescing from an
attack of fever, had a relapse and died a few days after.

Great was the grief of all for Walter; Mr. Dinsmore mourned very much for
his father also, left thus almost alone in his declining years. No
particulars were given in regard to the deaths of the two young men.

"Oh," cried Elsie, as she wept over Walter's loss, "what would I not give
to know that he was ready for death! But surely we may rejoice in the hope
that he was; since we have offered so much united prayer for him."

"Yes," returned her father, "for 'If two of you shall agree on earth, as
touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my
Father which is in heaven'; and God's promises are all 'yea and amen in
Christ Jesus.'"

"Papa," said Horace, "how can it be that good Christian men are fighting
and killing each other?"

"It is a very strange thing, my son; yet undoubtedly true that there are
many true Christians on both sides. They do not see alike, and each is
defending what he believes a righteous cause."

"Listen all," said Mrs. Dinsmore, who was reading a letter from Daisy, her
youngest sister.

"Richard is ill in the hospital at Washington, and May has gone on to
nurse him. Dr. King, of Lansdale, Ohio, is there acting as volunteer
surgeon, and has Lottie with him. She will be company for our May. Don't
worry about Ritchie; May writes that he is getting better fast."

Rose smiled as she read the last sentence.

"What is it, mamma?" asked Elsie.

"Nothing much; only I was thinking how greatly Ritchie seemed to admire
Miss King at the time of the wedding."

"Well, if he loses his heart I hope he will get another in exchange."

"Why, Sister Elsie, how could Uncle Ritchie lose his heart? did they shoot
a hole so it might drop out?" queried Rosebud in wide-eyed wonder. "I hope
the doctors will sew up the place quick 'fore it does fall out," she
added, with a look of deep concern. "Poor, dear Uncle Wal is killed," she
sobbed; "and Uncle Art too, and I don't want all my uncles to die or to be
killed."

"We will ask God to take care of them, dear daughter," said Rose,
caressing the little weeper, "and we know that He is able to do it."

* * * * *

One day in the following January--1863--the gentlemen went into the city
for a few hours, leaving their wives and children at home. They returned
with