room and buried my head in my hands. Oh, how often had the phantom of
happiness passed within my reach, but glided from my grasp!

"Oh, Lucy, Lucy!" I exclaimed aloud. "But for you, and a few words
carelessly spoken, I had never trod the path of ambition whose end has
been the wreck of all my happiness! But for you I had never loved so
fondly! But for you, and I had never been--"

"A soldier, you would say," whispered a soft voice as a light hand
gently touched my shoulder. "No, Mr. O'Malley; deeply grateful as I am
to you for the service you once rendered myself, bound as I am by every
tie of thankfulness by the greater one to my father, yet do I feel that
in the impulse I have given to your life I have done more to repay my
debt to you than by all the friendship, all the esteem I owe you. If,
indeed, by any means, you became a soldier, then I am indeed proud."

"Alas! Lucy--Miss Dashwood, I would say--how has my career fulfilled the
promise that gave it birth? For you, and you only, to gain your
affection, I became a soldier. And now, and now----"

"And now," said she, while her eyes beamed upon me with a very flood of
tenderness, "is it nothing that I have glowed with pride at triumphs I
could read of, but dared not share in? I have thought of you. I have
dreamed, I have prayed for you."

"Alas! Lucy, but not loved me."

Her hand, which had fallen upon mine, trembled violently. I pressed my
lips upon it, but she moved it not. I dared to look up; her head was
turned away, but her heaving bosom betrayed emotion.