was
gone. Calling him by every endearing name with wild expressions of
affection, I wiped the tears tenderly away, covering the dear face with
kisses, while my own fell fast. The doctor left us together for a
little--albeit used to scenes like this, wiping _his_ eyes as he went
away.

A gust of bitter passion swept over my darling. He started up. 'Rascally
rebels!' he cried; 'cursed bullets! Why couldn't they have been aimed at
my heart, and _killed_ me! I was willing to give my life--but to make a
wreck, a broken hull of me! Look at me, Maggie, a poor, maimed wretch.
What am I fit for? Who will care for me _now?_ To be an object of
loathing!' he continued, between his set teeth; 'to be a sight of
horror; to win, perhaps, after she gets used to the deformity, a little
meagre love for charity's sake; to be scorned, and loathed, and pitied;
if I could get only off from the face of the earth--out of the sight of
men; if God would let me die!' Wounded sorely as he was, his boyish
vanity in his really handsome person, his manly pride in its strength,
was more sorely wounded still. Yes, strangers _would_ think him a sight
to behold: had not even I turned shuddering from that disfigured form,
before I knew it was my darling's? He _was_ ruined for life, and he was
young too--only nineteen. He was very weak, and this passionate outbreak
of feeling had exhausted him. It was but a flash of his old fire at
best. His head sank back upon my arm again; he lay with his eyes closed,
resting for a little; when he spoke again, his voice was low and
wavering, tremulous with tears.

'I wouldn't care so much, only----' He paused, hesitated, drew with
difficulty a little locket from his bosom, and gazed upon it tearfully.
A jealous pain shot through my heart. I had thought until that moment
that I was all in all to him, first in his affections, as he was in
mine; that no rival shared his heart. _This_ was the bitterest pang of
all. I looked down at the beautiful face set in the locket, perfect as
to form and color, with such a fierce hatred of its original as I hope
in God's name I shall never feel again for any mortal breathing.

'It's all over between us,' he sighed; 'even if I were ungenerous enough
to ask it, she wouldn't receive me now.' My face spoke my scorn. 'Don't
blame her,' he said, pathetically; 'it isn't natural she should, poor
little thing! This for what she might have been to me.' Then, he kissed
the pictured face, and sor