mistaken in yourself, and only dislike joining the army on your poor
father's account. Question your conscience and your heart, and
remember, Charles Henry, that God will hear your answer. Do you
truly believe that you are wanting in courage--that you would fly
from the battle-field?"

"As truly as there is a God above us, I believe it, Anna Sophia. It
is not belief, it is certainty. It is not in my nature to be brave;
I was not brought up to it, and am therefore without it. I am an apt
farmer, but would be a bad soldier."

Anna Sophia sighed deeply, and covered her face with her hands. Thus
she stood for some time in front of her betrothed, and he saw the
large tears, stealing through her fingers, fall upon the grass, to
be transformed there by the sun into sparkling jewels.

"Why do you weep, Anna Sophia?" asked he, gently. "What has so
suddenly made you sad?"

Her hands fell slowly and wearily from her face. "I am not weeping
now," said she, "it is past--I have shed my last tear. Now we must
settle upon what is to be done, for you cannot be a soldier."

"But they will force me," said he, "for I am tall, strong, and
healthy--just the build for a soldier."

Anna Sophia raised herself proudly and stood beside him. "I am as
tall as you," said she.

"It is true," replied Charles Henry, laughing, "we are of the same