The fond husband could not refuse, and together they entered the National Capital, and were greeted cordially by sympathizers and army officials. As, however, we are not writing the history of the rebellion, but only narrating incidents gathered during its progress, we will not trace the march of Colonel Hamilton's corps, but will meet him again when the warm days return to deck the blood-stained land with beauty and breathe freshness once more into the trampled vegetation.
There had been skirmishes along the line of march, fightings, repulses and victories; and Lillian had not been permitted to fold her hands. There were the sick to be attended to, and wounded to be dressed; while the 'cup of cold water' and the 'oil and wine' were needed everywhere: Whether friend or foe; Confederate or Unionist, it made no difference, in each she discovered a brother, and withheld no comfort or ministration in her power.
"You seem young to be in the army," she said one day to a beardless youth who had been severely wounded by a sharpshooter and was placed under her care.
"Eighteen, ma'am," was the laconic reply.
"Will you tell me your name?" she asked, while tenderly bathing the pale face and combing the rich brown hair from a full rounded forehead.
"Rufus Gaylord."
She started.
"Gaylord!"
How her thoughts flew! What a sweep over they took in that intervening moment of silence!
"Is your father's name Hudson Gaylord?"