"It seemed as if everything must have happened then, and that there would be nothing left for this year," she said.
Uncle Robert brought most satisfactory accounts from his nephew. Rob was well, contented and happy, and growing tall in an astonishing manner. He sent oceans of love and thanks to everybody, and wished that he could come home and see them.
"And here is a letter for you," said Kathie, taking it from the rack on his desk. "It is from Mr. Meredith. See if he is not going to surprise us. The ninety days will soon be ended."
Uncle Robert sat before the grate fire, sunning himself in the cheerful glow, but Kathie remarked that his face grew very grave.
"What is it?" she asked, anxiously. "He is not sick, or—"
"He is well. You may read this."
He folded down a little slip at the top and handed the letter to the child, who read:—
"Tell Kathie that I have seen General Mackenzie, her hero of last winter, and that he was delighted to have some tidings of her. And that during the last fortnight my ideas and sphere of duty seem to have enlarged. I think she will approve of my decision,—my brave little Captain who stood by her colors so nobly last winter, and preferred to minister to her suffering aunt rather than share the most tempting pleasures. So I shall give up my own comfort and idleness awhile longer, and stand by the dear country that needs every man in this last great struggle."
"Oh!" with a tender little cry. "He is not coming home!"