“Have no fear for me:  I feel as if I could bear any thing just now; for I’ve got into a heroic mood and I mean to keep so as long as I can.  I’ve always wanted to live in stirring times, to have a part in great deeds, to sacrifice and suffer something for a principle or a person; and now I have my wish.  I like it, David:  it’s a grand time to live, a splendid chance to do and suffer; and I want to be in it heart and soul, and earn a little of the glory or the martyrdom that will come in the end.  Surely I shall if I give you and myself to the cause; and I do it gladly, though I know that my heart has got to ache as it never has ached yet, when my courage fails, as it will by and by, and my selfish soul counts the cost of my offering after the excitement is over.  Help me to be brave and strong, David:  don’t let me complain or regret, but show me what lies beyond, and teach me to believe that simply doing the right is reward and happiness enough.”

Christie was lifted out of herself for the moment, and looked inspired by the high mood which was but the beginning of a nobler life for her.  David caught the exaltation, and gave no further thought to any thing but the duty of the hour, finding himself stronger and braver for that long look into the illuminated face of the woman he loved.

“I’ll try,” was all his answer to her appeal; then proved that he meant it by adding, with his lips against her cheek:  “I must go to mother and Letty.  We leave them behind, and they must be comforted.”

He went, and Christie vanished to make ready for her wedding, conscious, in spite of her exalted state of mind, that every thing was very hurried, sad, and strange, and very different from the happy day she had so often planned.

“No matter, we are ‘well on’t for love,’ and that is all we really need,” she thought, recalling with a smile Mrs. Wilkins’s advice.

“David sends you these, dear.  Can I help in any way?” asked Letty, coming with a cluster of lovely white roses in her hand, and a world of affection in her eyes.

“I thought he’d give me violets,” and a shadow came over Christie’s face.

“But they are mourning flowers, you know.”

“Not to me.  The roses are, for they remind me of poor Helen, and the first work I did with David was arranging flowers like these for a dead baby’s little coffin.”

“My dearest Christie, don’t be superstitious:  all brides wear roses, and Davy thought you’d like them,” said Letty, troubled at her words.

“Then I’ll wear them, and I won’t have fancies if I can help it.  But I think few brides dress with a braver, happier heart than mine, though I do choose a sober wedding-gown,” answered Christie, smiling again, as she took from a half-packed trunk her new hospital suit of soft, gray, woollen stuff.

“Won’t you wear the pretty silvery silk we like so well?” asked Letty timidly, for something in Christie’s face and manner impressed her very much.