During that summer Lieutenant Montgomery was stationed at Newport, Ky., on the recruiting service, where my husband, my mother and I occasionally visited them, and we were astonished to notice with what perfect kindness, even affection, they always spoke of her parents and friends; but when we found her once reading God's Word and staying herself on His precious promises, we no longer wondered that there was in her heart no feeling of bitterness, for she, too, had learned the lessons He taught, who, "when He was reviled, reviled not again, but committed himself to Him who judgeth righteously." A very few of her friends still visited her, but nearly all felt it would not be politic to be found in sympathy with one on whom the wealthy and influential Griffin Taylor frowned with displeasure. She always believed her father would relent, and sometimes, when she saw him approaching her on the street, her heart would give a great bound with the hope that now he would surely speak to her; but as soon as the proud man saw her, he invariably crossed the street to avoid the meeting, and then she felt sore and wounded, indeed. So the summer passed away, and in the fall came orders for the Lieutenant to join his regiment, then engaged in the terrible war with the Seminoles in Florida. All wondered if Lizzie's love for her husband would stand this severe test, and many were astonished when they heard it was her intention to accompany him to the land of the Everglades, where so many had lost their lives, and where the prevailing fever or the deadly tomahawk might leave her alone among strangers. A few days before they left we visited them in the old Newport barracks, and I said to her: "Lizzie; remember you are a soldier's wife, and must not give way to fear." Never can I forget the look of tenderness with which her husband regarded her as he replied for her: "Dear Lizzie has no fear; she is more of a soldier than I am. Had it not been for her brave bearing and her sweet words of encouragement, I know not but I might have turned coward at the thought of exposing the dear girl to the dangers and privations of such a campaign; but the knowledge that I possess such a treasure will nerve my arm and give me courage to fight manfully to preserve her from danger, and to end this dreadful war with the relentless savages." After repeated but vain efforts to see her father, she bade farewell to her friends, and those to whom she had clung during her days of trial and suspense accompanied her to the steamer which was to carry her from her home. The day was a cheerless one; the sun veiled his face behind dark, ominous clouds, and the wind sighed mournfully, as if moaning out a requiem. We felt oppressed with foreboding; we knew she was going into the midst of real danger; her father had refused to see her; her mother had parted with her in anger; nearly all her old friends had frowned upon her, and now nature