"Yes," she continued, without noticing his words, "I shall leave of my
own accord, and there," she said, pointing to Ella, "lies my sick
child. Should exposure on this night cause her death, I shall let you
know of it that you may have some subject, accruing from your
heartless conduct, on which to ponder."

Slowly she removed all the articles that were in the room, and placed
them on the sidewalk. There were but few things in the room, and her
task was soon completed.

"Come, darling," she said as she wrapped up Ella in a cover-lid and
lifted the child in her arms, "come, and let us go."

Mr. Elder still stood with folded arms looking on.

"Farewell, sir," she said, turning to him, "you have driven a
soldier's helpless wife and children from the roof that covered them
into the open streets, with none other than skies above as a covering.
May God pardon you as I do," and speaking to the little boy who still
clung to her dress, she replied, "Come, darling, let us go."

Go where? She knew not, thought not where. She only knew that she was
now homeless.

The clouds looked as serene, the stars twinkled as merrily as ever,
and the moon shed as bright a light upon the form of the soldier's
wife, as she walked out of that room, a wanderer upon the earth, as it
did on scenes of peace and happiness. The Ruler of the Universe saw
not the desolate mother and her children; thus there was no change in
the firmament, for had He gazed upon them at that moment, a black