"Nothing much; only I was thinking how greatly Ritchie seemed to admire Miss King at the time of the wedding."
"Well, if he loses his heart I hope he will get another in exchange."
"Why, Sister Elsie, how could Uncle Ritchie lose his heart? did they shoot a hole so it might drop out?" queried Rosebud in wide-eyed wonder. "I hope the doctors will sew up the place quick 'fore it does fall out," she added, with a look of deep concern. "Poor, dear Uncle Wal is killed," she sobbed; "and Uncle Art too, and I don't want all my uncles to die or to be killed."
"We will ask God to take care of them, dear daughter," said Rose, caressing the little weeper, "and we know that He is able to do it."
One day in the following January—1863—the gentlemen went into the city for a few hours, leaving their wives and children at home. They returned with faces full of excitement.
"What news?" queried both ladies in a breath.
"Lincoln has issued an Emancipation Proclamation freeing all the blacks."
There was a momentary pause: then Rose said, "If it puts an end to this dreadful war, I shall not be sorry."
"Nor I," said Elsie.