“Here, Elfie. You take this basket of oranges, dear, and go down one row of beds while I go down the other. And give each man one. Sister Frances says that the men in this ward may all eat fruit,” said Erminie. Elfie took the basket of oranges, and went down the row of beds as she was bid, pausing at each to speak a kind and cheering word, and to give an orange. At length she reached the very last little bed in the corner, and without looking at its occupant, she said: “Well, you are the last, but you will not be the worst served, soldier. Here is the very finest orange in the whole lot. Just as if I had saved it on purpose for you. I hope it will refresh you. And—I hope you are not badly wounded.” “Elfie!” in a feeble voice exclaimed the wounded man. “Great Heaven!” cried the girl, starting, and nearly dropping her basket of oranges. She stood beside the bed of Albert Goldsborough. “Elfie, didn’t you know me?” he sadly and faintly inquired. “No. I was picking out the biggest orange for the man who had to wait the longest, and so I didn’t look at you, and didn’t know you. You might have been sure of that. And now that I _do_ know you, I take back all I said and all I gave. Hand me that orange. I have nothing for you.” “Not even forgiveness, Elfie?” he sighed, as he restored the fruit. “Nothing,” she answered grimly, turning from him and walking back. The hospital beds were very narrow and very near together. The wounded soldier that occupied the one next to Albert Goldsborough, heard and saw all that had passed between him and Elfie. Now turning painfully on his side, he stretched out his hand towards Goldsborough and said: “Here, Reb., take half my orange. Do now—you’re welcome to it. A Reb. boy gave me half his bread and water while we lay together on the battle-field before I was brought here; and I haven’t forgot that yet! Take half my orange, Reb., or if you’re thirsty take the whole.” Albert Goldsborough smiled and shook his head, saying: “I thank you, but cannot take it. The lady who gave it would not like the transfer.” Elfie heard all this and felt ashamed. She stopped short and burst into tears. She was almost hysterical with contradictory emotions. But she knew it would never do to make a scene in the ward of a hospital. “The noble soldiers! _they_ cherish no feelings of bitter malignity against our brave foes. It is only we, miserable, mean, little non-combatants, who never risked our lives in the cause, who are as venemous as reptiles! I will follow the example of our dear Union boy there,” thought Elfie, as she hurried to the side of the young soldier of whom she had spoken, and said, with emotion: “You are better than I am! You are a brave, good, generous fellow, and I hope I shall know more of you.” The young soldier smiled and said, a little obscurely: “You see, Miss, we must save the Union at any cost; but we don’t _all_ hate each other for all that.”