"I cannot sufficiently thank you! My dear mother and Clara will do that!"
"Nonsense!" said Herbert laughing; "didn't I tell you that the Lord reigns, and the devil is a fool? This is only the beginning of victories!"
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE END OF THE WAR.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,