Part 18 (1/2)
At last she said, abruptly: ”I am learning what war means. It would seem that there is almost as much danger in enforcing discipline on such horrible men as in facing the enemy.”
”Of course,” said Merwyn, carelessly. ”That is part of the risk.”
”Well,” she continued, emphatically, ”I never saw a braver act than that of Mr. Strahan. He was unarmed.”
”I was also!” was the somewhat bitter reply, ”and you did not even thank me by a look for saving your friend from a bad wound to say the least.”
”I beg your pardon, Mr. Merwyn, you were armed with a strength which made your act perfectly safe. Mr. Strahan risked everything.”
”How could he help risking everything? The infuriated beast was coming towards you as well as him. Could he have run away? You are not just to me, or at least you are very partial.”
”One can scarcely help being partial towards one's friends. I agree with you, however; Mr. Strahan could not have taken any other course. Could you, with a friend in such peril?”
”Certainly not, with any one in such peril. Let us say no more about the trifle.”
She was silent a moment, and then said, impetuously: ”You shall not misunderstand me. I don't know whether I am unjust or not. I do know that I was angered, and cannot help it. You may as well know my thoughts. Why should Mr. Strahan and others expose themselves to such risks and hards.h.i.+ps while you look idly on, when you so easily prove yourself able to take a man's part in the struggle?
You may think, if you do not say it, that it is no affair of mine; but with my father, whom I love better than life, ready at any moment to give his life for a cause, I cannot patiently see utter indifference to that cause in one who seeks my society.”
”I think your feelings are very natural, Miss Vosburgh, nor do I resent your censure. You are surrounded by influences that lead you to think as you do. You can scarcely judge for me, however.
Be fair and just. I yield to you fully--I may add, patiently--the right to think, feel, and act as you think best. Grant equal rights to me.”
”Oh, certainly,” she said, a little coldly; ”each one must choose his own course for life.”
”That must ever be true,” he replied, ”and it is well to remember that it is for life. The present condition of affairs is temporary.
It is the hour of excited impulses rather than of cool judgment.
Ambitious men on both sides are furthering their own purposes at the cost of others.”
”Is that your idea of the war, Mr. Merwyn?” she asked, looking searchingly into his face.
”It is indeed, and time will prove me right, you will discover.”
”Since this is your view, I can scarcely wonder at your course,”
she said, so quietly that he misunderstood her, and felt that she half conceded its reasonableness. Then she changed the subject, nor did she revert to it in his society.
As August drew to its close, Marian's circle shared the feverish solicitude felt in General Pope's Virginia campaign. Throughout the North there was a loyal response to the appeal for men, and Strahan's company was nearly full. He expected at any hour the orders which would unite the regiment at Was.h.i.+ngton.
One morning Mr. Lane came to say good-by. It was an impressive hour which he spent with Marian when bidding her perhaps a final farewell. She was pale, and her attempts at mirthfulness were forced and feeble. When he rose to take his leave she suddenly covered her face with her hand, and burst into tears.
”Marian!” he exclaimed, eagerly, for the deep affection in his heart would a.s.sert itself at times, and now her emotion seemed to warrant hope.
”Wait,” she faltered. ”Do not go just yet.”
He took her unresisting hand and kissed it, while she stifled her sobs.
”Miss Marian,” he began, ”you know how wholly I am yours--”
”Please do not misunderstand me,” she interrupted. ”I scarcely know how I could feel differently if I were parting with my twin brother. You have been such a true, generous friend! Oh, I am all unstrung. Papa has been sent for from Was.h.i.+ngton, and we don't know when he'll return or what service may be required of him. I only know that he is like you, and will take any risk that duty seems to demand. I have so learned to lean upon you and trust you that if anything happened--well, I felt that I could go to you as a brother.
You are too generous to blame me that I cannot feel in any other way. See, I am frank with you. Why should I not be when the future is so uncertain? Is it a little thing that I should think of you first and feel that I shall miss you most when I am so distraught with anxiety?”