That sounded like proceeding at once to business, which Mr. Manly never liked to do. He was one of those easily discouraged men, whose rule is always to postpone until to-morrow what they are not absolutely obliged to do to-day. He waited, however, as usual, to hear what his wife would say to the proposition, before expressing himself decidedly against it. Fortunately, Mrs. Manly had energy and self-reliance enough for both. "If you are still firmly resolved to go, then your father will go with you to the recruiting office," she said; and that settled it: for Frank was resolved--his character resembling his mother's in respect to energy and determination. Accordingly, after breakfast, Mr. Manly, with frequent sighs of foreboding and discouragement, made a lather, honed his razor, and shaved himself, preparatory to a visit to town. Frank, in the mean while, made ready for his departure. He put in order the personal effects which he intended to leave at home, and packed into a bundle a few things he purposed to take with him. An hour passed quickly away, with all its busy preparations, consultations, and leave takings; and the last moment arrived. "Say good-by twice to me," said Hattie, the little invalid, rising up on her lounge to give him a farewell kiss. "Why twice to you?" asked Frank. "Because," she answered, with a sad, sweet smile, "If you do come home from the war, perhaps you won't find me here;" for the child had a notion that she was going to die. "O sissy," exclaimed Frank, "don't say so; I shall come back, and I shall find you well." "Yes," replied Hattie, sorry that she had said any thing to make him feel bad; "we will think so, dear brother." And she smiled again; just as angels smile, Frank thought. "Besides, this isn't my good-by for good, you know," said he. "I shall get a furlough, and come home and see you all, before I leave for the seat of war with my regiment." Frank couldn't help feeling a sort of pride in speaking of _his regiment_. "And may-be you will all visit me in camp before I go." "Come," called his father, at the door; "if we are going to catch this car, we must be off." So Frank abbreviated his adieus, and ran. "Wait, wait!" screamed Willie, pulling his cap on "Me go, me go!" "Go where, you little witch?" cried Helen. "Me go to war, along with my bwother Fwank. Put down webellion," pouted the child, shouldering his gun, and trudging out of the door in eager haste, fearing lest he should be left behind. Mrs. Manly was parting from her son on the doorstep, putting back a stray curl from his cheek, smoothing his collar, and whispering, with wet eyes and quivering lips, "My child, remember!"