The southern states were leaving the Union and the Confederacy had been organized. Rhoda knew that Kentucky was rent almost to her every hearthstone with discussion of whether North or South should have her loyalty. Charlotte had lately written: “Everybody is all torn into strips over the question whether or not Kentucky shall join the Confederacy. Nobody talks or thinks or dreams of anything else. But Lloyd and I are going to secede, whether Kentucky does or not.” Now and then, at long intervals, had come a brief letter from Jefferson Delavan. But he said nothing in any of these missives of love and but little of the mighty questions that were absorbing the minds and hearts and souls of men, women and children, North and South, and her replies were of the same sort. It was as if two loving but far divided souls, journeying through space, sought now and then by a faint call to bridge the distance between them. The tense, dark days of Lincoln’s inauguration were over, the guns of Sumter had cleared away the last clouds of uncertainty, and war was at hand. The lilacs were in bloom again and Rhoda, moving slowly down the path, broke off here and there a branch and presently stood at the front gate, her fragrant burden gathered loosely into one arm against her white dress. In her delight in their delicate beauty and savor she bent her face to the flowers, forgetting for the moment the things of the outside world. When she lifted it again Jefferson Delavan stood before her. “I have come to say good-by, Rhoda,” was his greeting, as he entered the gate. “Good-by?-- You are--going--” she stammered. “I am going to join the fortunes of the South,” he replied, as they walked up the path. “Kentucky has been false to her sister states and deserted them when they need her most. By a single vote she has decided upon neutrality. You, Rhoda, can understand what a bitter dose that is for me.” “You can’t endure it?” she hesitated as they turned into the walk to the grape arbor. “No, I can’t, and there are many other Kentuckians who feel as I do. I am going at once to join the southern army, and Corey and Morehead and a dozen others that I know are going too.” “Father has joined the Union army as a surgeon and I am going as a nurse.” They had reached the arbor and stood facing each other, she with her armful of lilacs still held against her white dress, both too much absorbed to be quite conscious of their actions. A sober smile curved by ever so little the grim line of his lips. “Then you will be fighting for your side as well as I for mine, though in a different way. But across the battlefields, Rhoda, I shall hear your heart calling mine, and I shall know too that it is telling me to fight right on.”