He no longer desired to see her again. Never again would he risk
enduring what she had evoked in him, whatever it was of good or of
evil, of the spiritual or the impure--he did not know he was aware
only of what his eyes had beheld and his heart had begun to desire.


On his way back from the office that evening he met Camilla Lent
and her uncle, the Captain, and would have passed with an amiable
salute, but the girl evinced a decided desire to speak. So he
turned and joined them.

"How do you do, Camilla? How are you, Captain Lent? This
re-conversion of the nation's ploughshares and pruning hooks is a
noisy affair, isn't it?"

"April 18th, 1861!" replied the Captain quickly. "What you hear,
sir, is the attrition consequent upon the grinding together of
certain millstones belonging to the gods."

"I have no doubt of it, Captain Lent; they'll probably make meal of
us all. Are you offering your services, sir."

Camilla said quickly, and with gayest confidence: "Uncle has been
looking about casually. There are so many regiments forming, so
many recruiting stations that we--we haven't decided--have we,
uncle?" And she gave Berkley a wistful, harrowing glance that
enlightened him.

He said gravely: "I suppose the average age of these volunteers