Approaching the bed, she lifted the masses of chestnut hair that clung to the damp brow.

As she looked on the pure, pale face, there came a gush of tenderness into her soul, and bending, she imprinted a long, warm kiss.

Mary stirred, and opened her eyes.
"Ah, Florry, you are up earlier than usual." She closed them again, murmuring slowly, "I feel as though I had no strength remaining; I can scarcely lift my head." "Sleep, Mary, if you can.

I will shut out the light, and call you again after a while." "No, Florry, I must not give way to such feelings; indeed they are getting quite too common of late; I can't think what makes me so weak and feverish." An hour later, as they stood together at the door of their little dining-room, a body of Mexican cavalry dashed furiously past their gate.

The cousins looked full at each other.