Having learned more fully what his present resources were, Merwyn next called on Mr. Vosburgh at his office. That gentleman greeted the young man courteously, disguising his surprise and curiosity. "I have just returned from my country place," Merwyn began, "and shall not have to go there very soon again, Can I call upon you as usual?" "Certainly," replied Mr. Vosburgh; but there was no warmth in his tone. "I have also a favor to ask," resumed Merwyn, with a slight deepening of color in his bronzed face. "I have not been able to follow events very closely, but so far as I can judge there is a prospect of severe battles and of sudden emergencies. If there is need of money, such means as I have are at your disposal." Even Mr. Vosburgh, at the moment, felt much of Marian's repulsion as he looked at the tall youth, with his superb physique, who spoke of severe battles and offered "money." "Truly," he thought, "she must be right. This man will part with thousands rather than risk one drop of blood." But he was too good a patriot to reveal his impression, and said, earnestly: "You are right, Mr. Merwyn. There will be heavy fighting soon, and all the aid that you can give the Sanitary and Christian Commissions will tend to save life and relieve suffering." Under the circumstances he felt that he could not use any of the young man's money, even as a temporary loan, although at times the employment of a few extra hundreds might aid him greatly in his work. Merwyn went away chilled and saddened anew, yet feeling that his reception had been all that he had a right to expect. There had been no lack of politeness on Mr. Vosburgh's part, but his manner had not been that of a friend. "He has recognized that I am under some secret restraint," Merwyn thought, "and distrusts me at last. He probably thinks, with his daughter, that I am afraid to go. Oh that I had a chance to prove that I am, at least, not a coward! In some way I shall prove it before many weeks pass." At dinner, that evening, Mr. Vosburgh smiled significantly at Marian, and said, "Who do you think called on me to-day?" "Mr. Merwyn," she said, promptly. "You are right. He came to offer--" "Money," contemptuously completing her father's sentence. "You evidently think you understand him. Perhaps you do; and I admit that I felt much as you do, to-day, when he offered his purse to the cause. I fear, however, that we are growing a little morbid on this subject, and inclined to judgments too severe. You and I have become like so many in the South. This conflict and its results are everything to us, and we forget that we are surrounded by hundreds of thousands who are loyal, but are not ready for very great sacrifices." "We are also surrounded by millions that are, and I cast in my lot with these. If this is to be morbid, we have plenty of company." "What I mean is, that we may be too hard upon those who do not feel, and perhaps are not capable of feeling, as we do."