lf will be good friends yet, and when we
hereafter shall speak of our former estrangement, it will only be to
remember by whose gentle influence we were reconciled. But permit me to
hope, Major, that your wound is not serious."

"A mere trifle, I believe, sir," returned Hansford, "but I am afraid I
will suffer some inconvenience from it for some time, as it is the sword
arm; and in these troublous times it may fail me, when it should be
prepared to defend."

"An that were the only use to which you would apply it," said Virginia,
half laughing, and half in earnest, "I would sincerely hope that it
might never heal."

"Oh fear not but that it will soon heal," said Bernard. "The most
dangerous wounds are inflicted here," laying his hand upon his heart; "a
wound dealt not by a savage, but by an angel; not from the arrow of the
ambushed Indian, but from the quiver of the mischievous little blind
boy--and the more fatal, because we insanely delight to inflame the
wound instead of seeking to cure it."

"Well really, Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, rallying the gay young
euphuist, "the flowers of gallantry which you have brought from Windsor
Court, thanks to your fostering care, flourish quite as sweetly in this
wilderness of Windsor Hall. Take pity on an illiterate colonial girl,
and tell me whether this is the language of Waller, Cowley or Dryden?"

"It is the language of the heart, Miss Temple, on the present occasion
at least," said Bernard, gravely; "for I am admonished that it is time I
should say farewell. Without flowers or poetry, Miss Virginia, I bid you
adieu. May you be happy, and derive from your association with others
that high enjoyment which you are so capable of bestowing. Farewell,
Major Hansford, we may meet again, I trust, when it will not be
necessary to invoke the interposition of a fair mediator to effect a
reconciliation."

Hansford well understood the innuendo contained in the last words of
Bernard, but taking the well-timed hint, refrained from expressing it
more clearly, and gave his hand to his rival with every appearance of
cordiality. And Virginia, misconstruing the words of the young jesuit,
frankly extended her own hand, which he pressed respectfully to his
lips, and then turned silently away.

"Well, I am delighted," said Virginia to her lover, when they were thus
left alone, "that you are at last friends with Bernard. You see now that
I was right and you were wrong in our estimates of his