swept along the entire front of the inn of Madame Delaunay. Colonel
Leonidas Talbot and Major Hector St. Hilaire sat with them. They, too,
were going to Montgomery. Mid-February had passed, and the day had been
one of unusual warmth for that time of the year, like a day in full
spring. The wind from the south was keen with the odor of fresh foliage
and of roses, and of faint far perfumes, unknown but thrilling. A sky
of molten silver clothed city, bay, and forts in enchantment. Nothing
seemed further away than war, yet they had to walk but a little distance
to see the defiant flag over Sumter, and the hostile Palmetto flags
waving not far away.

Madame Delaunay appeared in the doorway. She was dressed as usual in
white and her shining black hair was bound with the slender gold fillet.

"We are going away tomorrow, Madame," said Colonel Talbot, "and I know
that we cannot find in Montgomery any such pleasant entertainment as my
young friends have enjoyed here."

Harry was confirmed in his belief that the thread of an old romance
still formed a firm tie between them.

"But you will come back," said Madame Delaunay. "You will come back
very soon. Surely, they will not try to keep us from going our ways in
peace."

A sudden thrill of passion and feeling had appeared in her voice.

"That no one can tell, Julie," said Colonel Talbot very gravely--it
was the first time that Harry had ever heard him call her by her first
name--"but it seems to me that I should tell what I think. A Union such