“It is but a semblance on your part, at least, I sometimes think,” said Justin, bitterly; then quickly repenting the injustice of his words, he added—“But no! you saved my life at the most imminent hazard of your own. Yes, your friendship, Britomarte, passes the love of other women. Yet, oh, my soul! why is it, why, that you abjure the only relation in which we can rationally stand to each other? Well, well—I will not ask you. I will try to be silent on that subject—silent forever! I——” his voice quite broke down and he covered his working features with his hand. She looked at him and turned pale with the excess of her own emotions. She laid her hand tenderly upon his, and faltered: “Justin! brother! dearest brother! I am not worth all this feeling! indeed, indeed I am not, Justin. I would die to give you content—Heaven knows that I would. I would die, but I cannot marry you, Justin! I cannot!” “I shall never again ask you to do so,” he mournfully replied: “I shall—as soon as I see you safe to Washington, and meet my father and my sister—I shall enlist in the army, and in discharging the high duty that I owe my country I shall seek to forget my private griefs.” “Yes, do so, Justin! do so, dearest brother! and my prayers will follow you, and the favor of Heaven shall be upon you! And if you are not happy, you will still be blessed, since all who do their duty are so.” “But it is not of myself that I think; it is of you—of you! So young, so beautiful, and—forgive me, Britomarte—so poor and friendless! When I think of that, and of your obstinacy, all my strength and manhood desert me!” “Nonsense, Justin; I have health, intellect, freedom and—thirty dollars in gold to start with. Now, what would you think of a young man in my place with all these advantages? Would you make such a moan over him? Not a bit of it. You would think his prospects exceedingly promising. Now I assure you, Mr. Rosenthal, that—all other things being equal—a young woman is quite as well able to take care of herself as a young man.” “But this war! this war!” groaned Justin. “Exactly. This war will open to me, as to others, a field of duty and usefulness.” While they spoke Judith and Tom had been standing at a short distance away, conversing together. Now the girl approached Miss Conyers, and stood rolling the strings of her bonnet and blushing deeply. “What is it, Judith?” the young lady asked, kindly. “Sure, ma’am, ye know I towld yez that when we landed I should go to me aunt, who keeps a ship chandler’s shop on Wather street, and she’d give me a home or get me a service?” “Yes, Judith; are you not going there?—have you changed your mind?” “Yes, ma’am, sure; but——” “But what, Judith? Out with it,” said Justin. “Me gay Tom wants me to marry him,” said the girl, turning as red as a cabbage rose. “Well, Judith?” said Britomarte.