In these weeks of constant companionship George had talked so much of his hopes and plans, that a faint spark of that same ambition had begun to smoulder slowly in the boy's ignorant little heart.

Six months ago he could have had no understanding of such a grief as now made George's voice to tremble; but love had opened his eyes to many things, and made his sympathies keen.

He drew nearer, saying almost in a whisper: "But Uncle Billy says you fought a good fight while you was gettin' ready to help us cul'ud folks, an' if you got so knocked up you can't do nothin' moah, maybe 'twon't be expected as you should have yo' hands full when you go through the gates.

You've got yo' scars to show for what you've done." George lifted up his head.

There was an eager light in his eyes, not so much because of the comfort that had come from such an unexpected quarter, as because of a new hope that the words suggested.