“But I have been comforted, Justin. In comforting others I have been comforted. And now I am more than comforted—I am rejoiced. How all is changed, in public and in private, from grief to joy. And oh! how suddenly changed, brother! In a day! Almost in an hour! Yesterday morning came the glorious news of the victory of Gettysburg, and I knew that the tide of war had turned. Soon after—very soon after—came a messenger of joy to me. The minister that brought me the news of your safe return from—the grave! It was like a miraculous resurrection. Coming directly upon the news of the great victory, it was almost overwhelming. There seemed too much joy for one day!” “I entreated Dr. Sales to break the matter to you very cautiously,” said Justin. “Ah! do you think _that_ could be broken to me cautiously?” inquired Erminie, with a smile. “Why, Justin, as soon as he came into the room and I saw his face, I knew that he brought me ‘glad tidings.’ I naturally thought it was of the victory of Gettysburg, so I told him I had heard of it that very morning. But when he drew your name into the conversation, I knew in an instant that you were saved. Oh, Justin, it was such a shock of joy! But it did not kill me, as it might have done.” “Yes, it might, my sweet sister, for you look very pale, and thin, and fragile—not well able to bear a shock of any sort,” said Justin tenderly. “Ah, but all is well now. I am happy, so happy, although I weep. You must not mind my weeping, dear. We women often weep most when we are happiest, and—ah, yes! Heaven knows, _smile_ most when we are most wretched!” “‘Smile most when you are most wretched!’ Where have you learned that bitter lesson, my sister?” Justin gravely questioned. “In the hospital, where I have seen the heart-broken mother smiling on her mutilated or dying boy to keep his spirits up, as long as he should live.” “You seem to be very familiar with the wards of the hospitals, my sister.” “It is the business, the blessing of my life to be so. But, Justin, dear, I wish to ask you about Britomarte. You took care of her on the Desert Island. She saved your life in the sea fight. Ah, how my heart thrilled to the touch of that story. Now you are betrothed, I hope, and soon to marry? Oh, Justin, how cordially I would welcome her here as my sister, and how willingly resign my position as mistress of the house, in her favor. For the house is yours, you know, Justin, and as your wife it would be her right.” Justin slowly shook his head, compressed his lips, and frowned. “What do you mean by that, my brother?” “There is no possibility of a marriage between Miss Conyers and myself,” he said. “JUSTIN!” “You know what were Britomarte’s sentiments on the subject of marriage, or rather of the position of a woman in marriage. And now I have only to add that all which has happened to us has not been able to work a change in them.” “Oh, Justin! I am so sorry!”