Part 71 (2/2)
”Mamma, mamma, you must be patient and do as Dr. Henderson advises,”
cried Estelle. ”When you are calm you will see that he is right.
If anything should happen you would never forgive yourself.”
The mother's bitter protest was pa.s.sing into a deadlier fear, but she only said, coldly, ”Very well; since such are your decrees I shall go to my room and wait till I am summoned;” and she rose and left the apartment, followed by her elder daughter, a silent, reticent girl, whose spirit her mother had apparently quenched.
Estelle lingered until they had gone, and then she turned to Strahan, who said, with an attempt at a smile, ”I can scarcely realize that this is the little girl whom I used to play with and tease.”
But she heeded not his words. Her large, l.u.s.trous eyes were dim with tears, as she asked, falteringly, ”Tell me the truth, Mr. Strahan; do you think my brother is very ill?”
”Yes,” he replied, sadly; ”and I hope I may be permitted to remain as one of his watchers. He took care of me, last winter, in an almost mortal illness, and I would gladly do him a like service.”
”But you are hurt. Your arm is in a sling.”
”My wound is healing, and I could sit by your brother's side as well as elsewhere.”
”You shall remain,” said the girl, emphatically. ”I have some of mamma's spirit, if not all her prejudices. Is this Miss Vosburgh such a fright?”
”I regard her as the n.o.blest and most beautiful girl I ever saw.”
”Oh, you do?”
”Yes.”
”Well, I shall go and talk reason to mamma, for sister Berta yields to everything without a word. You must stay, and I shall do my share of watching as soon as the doctor permits.”
Mrs. Merwyn thought she would remain in her room as she had said, but the fountains of the great deep in her soul were breaking up. She found that the mother in her heart was stronger than the partisan. She MUST see her son.
At last she sent Thomas for Dr. Henderson again, and obtained permission to look upon her child. Bitter as the physician knew the experience would be, it might be salutary. With noiseless tread she crossed the threshold, and saw Marian's pure, pale profile; she drew a few steps nearer; the young girl turned and bowed gravely, then resumed her watch.
For the moment Merwyn was silent, then in a voice all too distinct he said: ”Cruel, unnatural mother, to rob me of my manhood, to chain me like one of her slaves. Jeff Davis and empire are more to her than husband or son.”
The conscience-stricken woman covered her face with her hands and glided away. As by a lightning-flash the reason why she had forfeited her place by the couch of her son was revealed.
CHAPTER LIII.
”MISSY S'WANEE.”
THERE is no need of dwelling long on subsequent events. Our story has already indicated many of them. Mrs. Merwyn's bitter lesson was emphasized through many weary days. She hovered about her son like a remorseful spirit, but dared not speak to him. She had learned too well why her voice might cause fatal agitation. For a time she tried to ignore Marian, but the girl's gentle dignity and profound sorrow, her untiring faithfulness, conquered pride at last, and the mother, with trembling lips, asked forgiveness and besought affection.
Blauvelt arrived in town on the evening of the day just described, proposing to offer his services to the city authorities, meanwhile cheris.h.i.+ng the secret hope that he might serve Marian. He at last found Strahan at Merwyn's home. The brother officers talked long and earnestly, but, while both were reticent concerning their deeper thoughts, they both knew that a secret dream was over forever.
Marian came down and gave her hand to the artist soldier in warm pressure as she said, ”My friends are loyal in my time of need.”
He lingered a day or two in the city, satisfied himself that the insurrection was over, then went home, bade his old mother good-by, and joined his regiment. He was soon transferred to the staff of a general officer, and served with honor and distinction to the end of the war.
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