“Marian, dear,” said her father, “do not look on the dark side; it might have been a hundred-fold worse.  ‘Cap’n’ Lane was in circumstances of great comfort, with his own surgeon in care of his wound.  Think how many poor fellows were left on the field of Chancellorsville to Heaven only knows what fate.  In such desperate fighting as has been described we have much reason to be thankful that he was not killed outright.  He has justly earned great credit with his superiors, and I predict that he will get well and be promoted.  I think you will receive a letter in a day or two from the surgeon.  I prescribe that you and mamma sleep in the morning till you are rested.  I won’t grumble at taking my coffee alone.”  Then, to the colored woman and her son:  “Don’t you worry.  We’ll see that you are taken care of.”

Late as it was, hours still elapsed before Marian slept.  Her hero had become more heroic than ever.  She dwelt on his achievements with enthusiasm, and thought of his sufferings with a tenderness never before evoked, while the possibility that “Missy S’wanee” was his nurse produced twinges approaching jealousy.

As was expected, the morning post brought a letter from the surgeon confirming the account that had been given by the refugees, and full of hope-inspiring words.  Then for weeks there were no further tidings from Lane.

Meanwhile, events were culminating with terrible rapidity, and their threatening significance electrified the North.  The Southern people and their sympathizers everywhere were jubilant over the victory of Chancellorsville, and both demanded and expected that this success should be followed by decisive victories.  Lee’s army, General Longstreet said, was “in a condition of strength and morale to undertake anything,” and Southern public sentiment and the needs of the Richmond government all pointed towards a second and more extended invasion of the North.  The army was indeed strong, disciplined, a powerful instrument in the hands of a leader like General Lee.  Nevertheless, it had reached about the highest degree of its strength.  The merciless conscription in the South had swept into its ranks nearly all the able-bodied men, and food and forage were becoming so scarce in war-wasted Virginia and other regions which would naturally sustain this force, that a bold, decisive policy had become a necessity.  It was believed that on Northern soil the army could be fed, and terms of peace dictated.

The chief motive for this step was the hope of a counter-revolution in the North where the peace faction had grown bold and aggressive to a degree that only stopped short of open resistance.  The draft or general conscription which the President had ordered to take place in July awakened intense hostility to the war and the government on the part of a large and rapidly increasing class of citizens.  This class had its influential and outspoken leaders, who were evidently in league with