ecured for her in case the worst should ensue."

If Captain Dobbin expected to get any personal comfort and satisfaction
from having one more view of Amelia before the regiment marched away,
his selfishness was punished just as such odious egotism deserved to
be. The door of Jos's bedroom opened into the sitting-room which was
common to the family party, and opposite this door was that of Amelia's
chamber. The bugles had wakened everybody: there was no use in
concealment now. George's servant was packing in this room: Osborne
coming in and out of the contiguous bedroom, flinging to the man such
articles as he thought fit to carry on the campaign. And presently
Dobbin had the opportunity which his heart coveted, and he got sight of
Amelia's face once more. But what a face it was! So white, so wild
and despair-stricken, that the remembrance of it haunted him afterwards
like a crime, and the sight smote him with inexpressible pangs of
longing and pity.

She was wrapped in a white morning dress, her hair falling on her
shoulders, and her large eyes fixed and without light. By way of
helping on the preparations for the departure, and showing that she too
could be useful at a moment so critical, this poor soul had taken up a
sash of George's from the drawers whereon it lay, and followed him to
and fro with the sash in her hand, looking on mutely as his packing
proceeded. She came out and stood, leaning at the wall, holding this
sash against her bosom, from which the heavy net of crimson dropped
like a large stain of blood. Our gentle-hearted Captain felt a guilty
shock as he looked at her. "Good God," thought he, "and is it grief
like this I dared to pry into?" And there was no help: no means to
soothe and comfort this helpless, speechless misery. He stood for a
moment and looked at her, powerless and torn with pity, as a parent
regards an infant in pain.

At last, George took Emmy's hand, and led her back into the bedroom,
from whence he came out alone. The parting had taken place in that
moment, and he was gone.

"Thank Heaven that is over," George thought, bounding down the stair,
his sword under his arm, as he ran swiftly to the alarm ground, where
the regiment was mustered, and whither trooped men and officers
hurrying from their billets; his pulse was throbbing and his cheeks
flushed: the great game of war was going to be played, and he one of
the players. What a fierce excitement of doubt, hope, and