see how they
suffer."

"Yes," said the minister; "and there are a great many just such scenes
to-day. Ah, well, as St. Paul says, we see as yet but in part."

Passing in and out among the shrubbery, and presently disappearing
from the sympathetic eyes upon the piazza, the lovers came to a little
summer-house, and there they entered. Taking her wrists in his hands, he
held her away from him, and his eyes went slowly over her from head to
foot, as if he would impress upon his mind an image that absence should
not have power to dim.

"You are so beautiful," he said, "that in this moment, when I ought to
have all my courage, you make me feel that I am a madman to leave you
for the sake of any cause on earth. The future to most men is but a
chance of happiness, and when they risk it they only risk a chance.
In staking their lives, they only stake a lottery ticket, which would
probably draw a blank. But my ticket has drawn a capital prize. I risk
not the chance, but the certainty, of happiness. I believe I am a fool,
and if I am killed, that will be the first thing they will say to me on
the other side."

"Don't talk of that, Phil. Oh, don't talk of being killed!"

"No, no; of course not!" he exclaimed. "Don't fret about that; I shall
not be killed. I've no notion of being killed. But what a fool I am to
waste these last moments staring at you when I might be kissing you, my
love, my love!" And clasping her in his arms, he covered her face with
kisses.

She began to sob convulsively.

"Don't, darling; don't! Don't make it so hard for me," he whispered
hoarsely.

"Oh, do let me cry," she wailed. "It was so hard for me to hold back all
the time we were at table. I must cry, or my heart will break. Oh, my
own dear Phil, what if I should never see you again! Oh! Oh!"

"Nonsense, darling," he said, crowding down the lump that seemed like
iron in his throat, and making a desperate effort to keep his voice
steady. "You will see me again, never doubt it. Don't I tell you I am
coming back? The South cannot hold out much longer. Everybody says so. I
shall be home in a year, and then you will be my wife, to be God's Grace
to me all the rest of my life. Our happiness will be on interest till
then; ten per cent, a month at least, compound interest, piling up every
day. Just think of that, dear; don't let yourself think of anything
else."

"Oh, Phil, how I love you!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck
in a passion o