We now return to little Mary, who was at school, making friends of every one she became acquainted with, and carefully studying her lessons, and most always at the head of her class. On entering the room one morning, and looking round, she saw that Rodolph was not there. He staid away the next day, and the next; when Mary heard he had been seen in company with some recruiting soldiers, and she trembled for fear he had gone with them. She immediately hastened to the camp, and almost the first thing she saw was Rodolph, with his musket shouldered, and the perspiration streaming down his cheeks, while the rough, harsh voice of an old corporal ordered him instantly to his quarters. [Illustration] Mary waved her hand to him, but he did not see her. The tears rolled down from her eyes, as she turned from him--for she knew the hardships he would have to suffer--and hurrying home, threw herself in the arms of the Old Guard, and wept as though she had lost her only friend. The next day she heard of his departure, and went to her studies, with the hope that he might return and spend some happy hours with her once more. After the regiment had stayed a long-time in France, it returned to Italy again; and coming to a beautiful village, the Old Guard told Mary it was the place where the battle was fought, and showed her the place where he found her. Mary could not remember the spot nor any thing else which she saw, for it was a long while ago, and she was a very little girl at that time. The houses which had been burned down were all built up again, and the little boys and girls were all playing about as though nothing had ever happened. On the arrival of the soldiers, they all ran to look at the Guards and hear the drums. [Illustration]