"What! with nobody but the servants?"
"They will take better care of me than anybody else. Nellie, and Andrew, and John are the only guardians I want in your absence. They have watched over me all my life, and they will do it to the end. Give yourself no trouble, sir, on my account."
"I suppose your Uncle Eric will be home before long; he can stay here till I come back—or—till the troubles are over. In the meantime, you could be with the Harrises, or Hendersons, or Mrs. Churchill."
"No, sir; I can stay here, which is infinitely preferable on many accounts. I will, with your permission, invite Mrs. Campbell to shut up the parsonage in her husband's absence, and remain with me till Uncle Eric returns. I have no doubt that she will be glad to make the change. Do you approve the plan?"
"Yes. That arrangement will answer for the present, and Arnold will be here to take care of you."
At the close of a week a telegraphic dispatch was received, informing Mr. Huntingdon of his appointment as major in the provisional army of the Confederacy and containing an order to report immediately for duty.
Having completed his arrangements, and ordered the carriage to be in readiness at daylight next morning to convey him to the depôt, he bade her good night much as usual, and retired to his own room.
But thought was too busy to admit of sleep. He turned restlessly on his pillow, rose, and smoked a second cigar, and returned, to find himself more wakeful than ever. The clock downstairs in the library struck one; his door opened softly, and, by the dim moonlight struggling through the window, he saw Irene glide to his bedside.
"Why don't you go to sleep, Irene?"
"Because I can't. I am too miserable."