The Doctor said nothing.  I was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows and blankets.

“The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father,” said I; “ever since he received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has been my best friend.”

“The letter I wrote him?  I don’t remember having written him a letter,” said my father.

“You have forgotten, Father,” said I; “you wrote him a letter in which you told him that you were sure he could help me.  The Doctor gave me the letter; I have it at home, somewhere.”

The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.

Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and battles in the West.  The Doctor said; “Jones, the news has been kept from you.  On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry, which success led ten days later to the surrender of Buckner’s army at Fort Donelson.”

“The 6th of February, you say?” I almost cried; “that was the last time I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked about Grant’s coming successes!”

“It did not need any great foresight for that,” said the Doctor.

“You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he certainly would not fail.”

“And it was the navy that took Fort Henry,” said my father.

On the day following that on which my father left us, I was sitting in a folding chair, trying to read for the first time since my illness began.

Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand.  “We’ll go, my boy,” said he; “we’ll go at once and avoid the crowd.”

“Go where, Doctor?”

“To Fort Monroe,” said he.

“Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?”

“Yes, we’ll go.”

“What are we going there for?”

“Don’t you remember that I thought of going there?”

“When was it that you told me, Doctor?”

“On the night before you became ill.  I told you that if General McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort Monroe, and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route.”

“Yes, I begin to remember.”

“Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan’s urgent arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as transportation can be provided for such an operation; it will take weeks yet.”

“And you are going to move down there?”

“Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to go with me; don’t you want to go?”

“Yes; that I do,” said I.

“The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks,” said the Doctor; “the change will mean much to you; you will be ready for duty by the time your regiment comes.”

Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on, but she came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was certainly pleased with the prospect of moving.  Her eyes were brighter.  She began at once to get together some loose things, although we had several days in which to make our preparations.  I could not keep from laughing at her; at the same time I felt that my amusement was caused by her willingness to get away for a time from the army, rather than by anything else.