Memories

e. He was to pass as my brother, and, having once promised, I could not disappoint him, especially as his waking hours were spent by my side, his hand often nestling into my own, his large wistful eyes questioning my face, as if dreading to find there some evidence of hesitation or change of purpose.

One day passed. At evening, as I was anxiously pacing my room, my hostess hurriedly entered, exclaiming, in agitation, "Your brother awaits you in the drawing-room. I could not welcome him. I will not see him. Only for your sake would I allow a Federal soldier to cross my threshold; but he is your brother; go to him."

Trembling with excitement, I descended to the parlor, where I found my brother,--a mere boy yet,--wearing the uniform of a Federal officer.

"Sister!" "Charles!" each cried, and no further greeting passed between us. The boy stood with folded arms, looking proudly, yet tenderly, at me, his only sister, all the brave ardor of a soldier who believes in the cause he serves rev