“I know it,” Rose continued, “but as he is perfectly well, he thinks it right to go back, and has fixed on one week from to-day.” “Yes, but Jimmie. You spoke of his leaving, too,” Annie said, and Rose rejoined: “Jimmie is going with Tom to join the Federal Army on the Potomac, and, as he says, retrieve, if possible, the character he lost by turning traitor once.” “Oh, I am _so_ glad! and I like him so much for that!” Annie exclaimed, her white face lighting up with a sudden animation, which made it seem very beautiful to the young man just entering the door. “I would brave the cannon’s mouth for another look like that,” was Jimmie’s mental comment as he stepped into the room, and advanced to the ladies’ side. “So you are glad I am going?” he said, half playfully, to Annie, who answered frankly: “Yes, very glad.” “And won’t you miss me a bit? Folks like to be missed, you know, if they are ever so bad. It makes one think better of himself, and consequently do better if he knows that his absence will cause a feeling of regret, however slight, to the friends left behind,” Jimmie remarked, while in his eyes there was a peculiar expression which Annie failed to see, as he stood looking down upon her. She would miss Jimmie, she knew, for she had become accustomed to his merry whistle, his ringing laugh, his teasing jokes at Rose’s expense, and his going would leave them very lonely, and so she frankly admitted, adding that “it was not because she wished to be rid of him that she was glad; it pleased her to see him in the path of duty, even though that path led to danger and possible death.” “Oh, don’t, Annie, don’t talk of death to Jimmie!” Rose cried, with a shudder. “You can’t begin to guess how it makes me feel, or how terrible it would seem if either he or Tom should die!” “Can’t I?” Annie asked, with such a depth of mournful pathos, that Rose’s tears flowed at once. Of course Annie knew how it felt, and every fibre of her heart was bleeding now, as she remembered one who left her as full of life and hope as either Tom or Jimmie, but who came back no more, save as the dead come back, shrouded and coffined for the grave. But Annie would not give way to her own feelings then. She would comfort Rose, and encourage the young man, who, she felt, shrank from the perils spread out before him. So she told how few there were, comparatively, who died on the battle-field, while the chances for life in the hospitals were greater now that better care and skill had been procured. “Annie,—excuse me, Mrs. Graham?” and Jimmie spoke vehemently, while his eyes kindled with a strange gleam. “Why don’t you go as nurse? You might be the means of untold good to the poor fellows who need such care as you could give.” “I have thought of it,” said Annie, while Rose exclaimed: