This, at the time, seemed equally true to the young girl herself.  Not in the least was she on her guard.  Her keen enjoyment of his society awakened no suspicions, for she enjoyed everything keenly.  His persistence in treating her, in spite of all her nonsense and frolicsomeness, as if she were worthy of the deepest respect and honor which manhood can pay to womanhood, ever remained a bewildering truth, and touched the deepest chords in her nature.  Sometimes when they sat in the light of the young moon on the veranda she revealed thoughts which surprised him, and herself even more.  It appeared to her as if a new and deeper life were awakening in her heart, full of vague beauty and mystery.  She almost believed that she was becoming good, as he imagined.  Why otherwise should she be so strangely happy and spiritually exalted?  He was developing in her a new self-respect.  She now knew that he was familiar with standards of comparison at the North of which she need not be ashamed.  Even her mother and sister had remarked, in effect, “It is evident that Captain Lane has been accustomed to the best society.”  His esteem was not the gaping admiration of a boor to whom she had been a revelation.

“No,” she said, “he is a revelation to me.  I thought my little prejudices were the boundaries of the world.  He, who has seen the world, walks right over my prejudices as if they were nothing, and makes me feel that I am his friend and equal, because he fancies I possess a true, noble womanhood; and now I mean to possess it.  He has made his ideal of me seem worthy and beautiful, and it shall be my life effort to attain it.  He doesn’t think me a barbarian because I am a rebel and believe in slavery.  He has said that his mother and sisters would receive me with open arms.  It seems to me that I have grown years older and wiser during the last few weeks.”

She did not know that her vivid, tropical nature was responding to the influence which is mightiest even in colder climes.

CHAPTER XL.

Love’s triumph.

The month of June was drawing to a close.  Captain Lane, his surgeon, and a little company of wounded men, equally with the Confederates, were only apparently forgotten.  They were all watched, and their progress towards health was noted.  Any attempt at escape would have been checked at once.  The majority of the Federal soldiers could now walk about slowly, and were gaining rapidly.  Although they were not aware of the fact, the Confederate wounded, who had progressed equally far in convalescence, were their guards, and the residents of the neighborhood were allies in watchfulness.  The Southerners were only awaiting the time, near at hand, when they could proceed to Richmond with their prisoners.  This purpose indicated no deep hostility on the part of the rebels.  Companionship in suffering had banished this feeling.  A sergeant among their