that he was not in the southern prisons or languishing in a hospital,
but gone from earth forever. My letter brought her the first definite
tidings, and my description of that last conversation, the first
comfort. 'I shall go to him though he shall not return to me,' wrote
the afflicted mother; and she gave me her blessing in such solemn,
tender words, that I can never forget them. In the letter she enclosed
a picture of Allan, sent home to her during the previous year; and
with it another, a picture of the one of whom Allan said, 'I want to
see her; I never knew how much until now.'"

As Hugh finished reading, he took the photographs from an envelope,
and handed them to Aunt Faith. They were passed from hand to hand,
with gentle comments, and some tear-dimmed eyes gazed on the pictured
faces,--a resolute, grave young soldier, with earnest eyes, and a
little, delicate, wistful maiden, as fair and simple as a wild-flower.

"The war made many partings," said Aunt Faith, as she replaced the
pictures in their envelope, and returned them to Mr. Leslie; "but the
lost ones are only gone before. There are no partings there."

The gayety had subsided into a quiet thoughtfulness, by common consent
the reading was abandoned, and, as it was growing late, Aunt Faith led
the way into the sitting-room, where the pretty supper-table soon
aroused the vivacity of the young people. Youth is buoyant, and, as
for Aunt Faith, she was never saddened by the thought of death. She
had lost so many loved ones, that her home seemed more there than
here. In a few moments all the company were talking and laughing as
merrily as ever, and in the crowd around the table no one noticed that
Rose Saxon had slipped away. If they noticed anything beside
themselves, it was the amount of chocolate-ice which Gideon Fish