“I must, Elfie! I must explain, while I can, my worldly position, that you may understand it and know how to proceed in the event of my death. Elfie, my uncle and aunt Goldsborough, and their unhappy daughter, being all dead, and there being no other heirs, all the vast estates appertaining to the elder branch of the Goldsborough family fall to me, as heir-at-law. The mansion in Richmond, the villa on the sea-side, and the plantation in the valley are all mine. The plantation house is in ruins, I believe; but the land is there, of course. And the rest of the property everywhere is intact; and, united to my own hereditary acres, makes a vast estate.” “As if I cared for that! Oh, Albert, I only care to see you get well,” she murmured. “And I will get well, to please you, if I can, Elfie. And as I said before, if I live, I will devote my life to your happiness. If I die, I will leave you the wealthiest widow in Virginia. For, Elfie, listen, my dear—whichever party conquers, _you_ will be all right. If the Confederacy triumphs, as the widow of a Confederate officer, you will succeed to the half of my estate. If the Union triumphs, as the daughter of a Union officer, and as an unquestionably loyal woman, you will still be allowed your widow’s rights to the one-half of my estates, although the other half may be confiscated by the conquerors.” “Albert! Albert! if you _will_ talk so, I cannot help it, of course! but you distress me very much,” wept Elfie. “I have done, my dear girl. I will say no more. And although you could not bear to hear my words just now, you will think of them in calmer moments, and act on them in after days—or your father or friends will for you. Give me your hand once more, beloved, and I will try to sleep again.” Elfie gave him her hand and dropped her head on the pillow beside him, and again his exhausted frame sunk to rest. On this occasion he slept longer than on the former one. And Elfie never moved and scarcely breathed, until she felt a hand laid lightly on her shoulder, and looking up saw Sister Agnes standing by her. “Miss Rosenthal has sent your dinner, and also a box of necessaries, which I have placed in my room. Will you come now?” whispered the sister. Elfie shook her head and pointed to the sleeping man, whose hand still firmly clasped her own. And just at that moment, as if the sleeper dreamed or divined that she was asked to leave him, he started and closed his fingers upon hers with a convulsive grip. “You see?” whispered Elfie. “I see. I will keep your dinner warm and come again after a while,” said the sister, stealing softly away. The hours crept slowly by and the afternoon waned towards evening. At four o’clock the patients had their tea, but Albert did not awake. At six o’clock the assistant surgeons in charge of the wards made their rounds. These rounds were always attended with some little bustle, and the bustle always awoke nervous sleepers. It awoke Goldsborough.