"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my emotion; "I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more likely to confirm your intermittent states. What you need is to get rid entirely of any necessity for the exercise of either memory or imagination for a time. To cherish either is to cherish both. On the contrary, any great and long-continued interest, which would dissociate you from your past, would, in my judgment, prove the end of your peculiar states." I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time. When he spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and hope for the best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the total. Keep up your spirits. War has many startling opportunities as well as disasters." * * * * * In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were heard miles away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the whole of McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company was actually in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report for me to our adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the Doctor's solicitation, a few words to General Grover. This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it, raged during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June 1st, and did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of McClellan's left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in reserve, and did not become engaged. While the battle was in progress, intense but subdued excitement was shown by the men in General Morell's command, and by the other troops on the right. On the part of all, there was constant expectation of orders to march to the help of the Union forces on the further side of the Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle came, in which our men had more than held their own, disappointment at not being chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed to feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity. * * * * * On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his tent, he busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order came from General Morell for me to report to him at once. Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two officers unknown to me. The one who most attracted my attention--though I was careful not to show any curiosity--was a man of nearly forty years, of medium height and muscular frame. His hair was dark; his mustache very slightly tinged with gray. His manner indicated an extremely nervous sense of responsibility, and the attitude of deference, which the others observed in his regard, was very noticeable. His face reminded me vaguely of some portrait--I knew not whose.