tive
ability had worked up a fair practice for so young a man in and around
Upton. When he volunteered, he had to make up his mind to leave this
carefully gathered clientage to scatter, or to be filched from him by
less patriotic rivals; but it may be well believed that this seemed to
him a little thing compared with leaving Grace Roberts, with the chance
of never returning to make her his wife. If, indeed, it had been for him
to say, he would have placed his happiness beyond hazard by marrying
her before the regiment marched; nor would she have been averse, but her
mother, an invalid widow, took a sensible rather than a sentimental view
of the case. If he were killed, she said, a wife would do him no good;
and if he came home again, Grace would be waiting for him, and that
ought to satisfy a reasonable man. It had to satisfy an unreasonable
one. The Robertses had always lived just beyond the garden from the
parsonage, and Grace, who from a little girl had been a great pet of the
childless minister and his sister, was almost as much at home there as
in her mother's house. When Philip fell in love with her, the Mortons
were delighted. They could have wished nothing better for either. From
the first Miss Morton had done all she could to make matters smooth for
the lovers, and the present little farewell banquet was but the last of
many meetings she had prepared for them at the parsonage.

Philip had come out from camp on a three-hours' leave that afternoon,
and would have to report again at half-past seven. It was nearly that
hour now, though still light, the season being midsummer. There had been
an effort on the part of all to keep up a cheerful tone; but as the time
of the inevitable separation drew near, the conversation had been more
and more left to the minister and his sister, who, with observations
sometimes a little forced, continued to fend off silence and the
demoralization it would be likely to bring to their young friends. Grace
had been the first to drop out of the talking, and Philip's answers,
when he was addressed, grew more and more at random, as the meetings of
his eyes with his sweetheart's became more frequent and lasted longer.

"He will be the handsomest officer in the regiment, that's one comfort.
Won't he, Grace?" said Miss Morton cheerily.

The girl nodded and smiled faintly. Her eyes were brimming, and the
twitching of her lips from time to time betrayed how great was the
effort with which she