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"But we will let John go on with his story." "All these plans were carried out," continued John Gayther. "The next day the lady was taken out of the box, removed to her own chamber, and placed upon a couch. The garments she wore were just as fresh and well preserved as she was, and as Dr.
"There is no line long enough to fathom the human heart." "I am thinking," said John Gayther, as he rattled the seeds in the pan, "whether it was worth while for Amanda to become conscious for so short a time, and just to hear a tale like that." "Was it worth while to learn that the man she had wanted to love her had really loved her?" asked the Daughter of the House, eagerly.
"And how did you come to know the story?" asked the Daughter of the House. "Has it ever been told before?" Now there was need to assert himself, if John Gayther did not wish to lose grace with his hearers, and he was equal to the occasion. "It has never been printed," said he, quietly but boldly. "It came to me in the most straightforward way, step by step."
The elder of these two ladies was not very elderly, and she was handsomer than her daughter. She was pleasant to look upon and pleasant to talk to, but she had a mind of her own; John Gayther had found that out long before. She was very fond of flowers, and there were many beds of them which were planted and treated according to her directions and fancies.
"Well, well," said John Gayther, who had not cut a pea-stick for the last fifteen minutes; "I suppose you could not tell by their uniforms which one of them belonged to your side I mean the young lady could not tell?"
"If I should take a prisoner," thought John Gayther, "I should make him walk in front of me." "Then Almia stepped forward; she had made up her mind, and she was very resolute. 'Gentlemen, said she, 'this cannot be. We are nearing the contending forces; there may be stragglers; and I do not wish to be left alone. You are both my prisoners. The two soldiers looked at her in utter amazement.
"Now it happened that at the time of my story there was a war in the land, and a great many people with whom my heroine was acquainted went forth to do battle for their country and their principles, or to act patriotically in some other way than fighting. I forgot to say that my heroine is named Almia " "De Ponsett, I suppose," interrupted John Gayther.
"John Gayther," said the Master of the House, "you will not make me believe that you ever knew two such fools." "In the course of my life," said the Old Professor, "I have known several of them." "Not looking for auks' eggs?" inquired the Next Neighbor. "Something just as impracticable," he said. "The North Pole, for instance," suggested the Mistress of the House.
For some little time the Daughter of the House had been speaking in a voice which grew lower and lower, and now she stopped. There were tears in her eyes, brought there by the story she herself was telling. John Gayther dropped his pea-stick and leaned forward. "Now miss," said he, "I really think your story is not quite right. You must have forgotten something a good many things.
John Gayther nodded his head as if he thought she was quite right, and she went on: "The first thing Almia did was to fit herself out after the fashion she thought best adapted to a bushwhacker nurse. She wore heavy boots, and a bicycle-skirt which just came to the top of the boots; and in this skirt she put ever so many pockets. She wore a little cap with a strap to go under the chin; and from her belt on the left side she hung a very little cask, which she happened to have, something like those carried by the St.
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