Leah; and as the thirsty, withered flowers drink up the dew of
heaven, so this girl of misfortune received that tender, unalloyed
love.

The inexorable duties of the school were pressing, forbidding long
confidential talks and clandestine interviews. Each and all were
impressed with the fact that they were approaching an important,
and, to some, a dreaded epoch in their lives.

Leah had long since acquainted Lizzie with the consummation of her
fears, informing her of the engagement between Mark Abrams and her
sister Sarah. With this information--this avowal of her broken heart
and hopes--Leah had enshrouded the subject with silence and laid it
away, as we lay our treasures in the tomb. Lizzie, always
compassionate and discreet, made no mention of it; and so the
silence was unbroken as the days passed on.

In the Citadel Square, far above Madam Truxton's seminary, the
drilling, drilling, drilling, was daily going on in these sunny
days. Drilling, drilling, drilling--for the coming battle of life, or
for the crimson strife of war that might desolate a land. Which was
it? Only the veiled years could answer this inquiry. Meanwhile, the
drilling still went on.

High hopes filled manly bosoms, and ambitious hearts throbbed
wildly, as the approaching end of the military year drew nigh.

Emile Le Grande sat dozing in his private chamber late one evening,
at the close of a severe day's duty, seated in a capacious
arm-chair, with his head dropped upon his breast. The young man was