“Far rather would I give my own life,” she said.  “But I will never seek to trammel your conscience, Alfred.”

They spoke together tenderly of the past, and hopefully of the future; and then they knelt and prayed together.

Some time was necessarily spent in making arrangements for the comfort and safety of the family during his absence; and when those were completed, he also went forth to rescue Liberty from the jaws of the devouring dragon.  When he bade farewell to Flora’s family, he said:  “Look after my precious ones, Blumenthal; and if I never return, see to it that Percival carries out all my plans with regard to George Falkner.”

Eight or ten weeks later, Alfred Blumenthal was lying in a hospital at Washington, dangerously wounded and burning with fever.  His father and mother and Mrs. Delano immediately went to him; and the women remained until the trembling balance between life and death was determined in his favor.  The soldier’s life, which he at first dreaded, had become familiar to him, and he found a terrible sort of excitement in its chances and dangers.  Mrs. Delano sighed to observe that the gentle expression of his countenance, so like the Alfred of her memory, was changing to a sterner manhood.  It was harder than the first parting to send him forth again into the fiery hail of battle; but they put strong constraint upon themselves, and tried to perform bravely their part in the great drama.

That visit to his suffering but uncomplaining son made a strong impression on the mind of Mr. Blumenthal.  He became abstracted and restless.  One evening, as he sat leaning his head on his hand, Flora said, “What are you thinking of, Florimond?”

He answered:  “I am thinking, dear, of the agony I suffered when I hadn’t money to save you from the auction-block; and I am thinking how the same accursed system is striving to perpetuate and extend itself.  The Republic has need of all her sons to stop its ravages; and I feel guilty in staying here, while our Alfred is so heroically offering up his young life in the cause of freedom.”

“I have dreaded this,” she said.  “I have seen for days that it was coming.  But, O Florimond, it is hard.”

She hid her face in his bosom, and he felt her heart beat violently, while he talked concerning the dangers and duties of the time.  Mrs. Delano bowed her head over the soldier’s sock she was knitting, and tears dropped on it while she listened to them.

The weight that lay so heavily upon their souls was suddenly lifted up for a time by the entrance of Joe Bright.  He came in with a radiant face, and, bowing all round, said, “I’ve come to bid you good by; I’m going to defend the old flag.”  He lifted up his voice and sang,

“’Tis the star-spangled banner, O long may it wave!” Flora went to the piano, and accompanied him with instrument and voice.  Her husband soon struck in; and Rosen Blumen and Lila left their lessons to perform their part in the spirit-stirring strain.  When they had sung the last line, Mr. Bright, without pausing to take breath, struck into “Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,” and they followed his lead.  He put on all his steam when he came to the verse,