THE SOLDIER.
FOR several days Mrs. Frost was very ill. The doctor came regularly
morning and evening, and pronounced her case a critical one. Mrs.
Dobbs looked pale and careworn; Jane, sorrowful, and Helen, with an
increasing weight on her conscience, peevish and irritable.
The poor girl believed that her conduct had induced the old woman's
sickness, and might be the means of her death; but this she kept
strictly in her own breast, only replying to Jane's constant inquiries,
"I am homesick."
At length the worst symptoms began to abate. The invalid's appetite
returned, and hope was entertained that she would recover from this
attack.
Mrs. Dobbs was unwearied in her care and tenderness. Mr. Dobbs searched
the market for game and other dainties to tempt the palate of his sick
guest. Jennie ran up and down stairs with new alacrity; sacrificing
her own wishes to the happiness of the old woman. Helen only remained
gloomy and restless.
"What can it mean?" she asked herself one day, when she overheard Mrs.
Dobbs praising the servants for their ready assistance during their
late affliction, adding that five dollars had been added to the credit
of each of them. "What reason have they for treating her so well? If it
was their own mother, they couldn't do more."
Since that eventful day when she had gone uninvited into the sick room,
she had never entered there; but now, one morning, Jane came running to
find her, saying, "Grandma Frost asked for you; she wants to see you!"
"I wont go!" exclaimed Helen, blushing violently. "If you and your
family choose to run at her beck and call, you may; but I sha'n't."
"Why, Helen!" cried her friend, regarding her with surprise. "What does
make you so prejudiced against grandma?"
"Who is in there?" inquired the young girl, without replying.
"Nobody now. Mother's lying down. You know she watched again last
night, and grandma is as kind and pleasant as possible. I never knew
anybody so changed. Come, do go up with me."
"What do you suppose she wants me for?"
"For nothing particular. She asked whether you were here yet, and then
said she would like to see you."
Helen rose without a word and followed her friend to the chamber.
The old woman fixed her sharp eyes a moment upon Helen's face, then
smiled as she held out her hand.
"I'm sorry you've been so sick," faltered the young girl in a scarcely
articulate tone.
In truth she was greatly shocked. She could scarcely breathe. The sight
of that haggard face, and those sunken eyes, so affected her, that she
longed to run from the room.
Still holding her hand, the old woman said, "Jennie tells me you read
beautifully; will you read a chapter for me?"
"In a minute, I will." Poor girl! she felt it absolutely necessary for
her to breathe the air, she was so stifled. She ran down the stairs,
and did not stop until she had reached the arbor.
"Oh! how sick she does look!" she cried out, "What if she should die?
I never, never will give way to my temper again! But I must go back; I
can't stay here. I must go and read to her."
Mrs. Dobbs had arisen from her couch to give the invalid her medicine.
When Helen entered, she noticed a slight flush on her patient's
countenance, and moved her hand that the young girl had better retire.
"I want her here," said Mrs. Frost, with her sharp ringing tone. "I
want to tell her, and to tell you, Miss Dobbs, and you, Jane, that
if I am cross and impatient, I do thank you for your kindness and
forbearance."
Her voice trembled as she added, "You must forgive an old heart-broken
woman for her peevishness and impatience; but never think I don't
realize how much you and yours have done to comfort me; no, don't think
that."
Mrs. Dobbs gazed in surprise at the sick woman, and then at Helen's
flushed cheeks.
"There is something here which I do not understand," she said to
herself; "but this is not the time to inquire about it."
In the evening, Jane happened to be sitting with Helen in the parlor,
when Mrs. Dobbs entered.
After a moment, Jane said, "Mother, will you please to tell Helen about
Jotham? She can't understand, why we have grandma here, and do so much
for her."
"With pleasure, my dear; though it is a sad story." She drew her sewing
from the basket, and began.
"It was near the commencement of the dreadful war which is now
desolating our country, that your father considered it his duty to
enlist. He joined a regiment then forming in —; and after arranging his
business as speedily as possible, left for the camp. Here he remained
for, several weeks, expecting soon to be ordered to Washington, when
one evening a messenger came; requesting his immediate presence in the
city, on account of trouble in his store. The head clerk had absconded
with money and notes to a large amount. Unless some vigorous measures
were taken, the labor and savings of a whole life would be sacrificed.
I was greatly distressed, and knew not what to do. I went to my
chamber, and endeavored to throw my burden upon one who has promised to
aid his suffering children. All at once I determined to send to one of
our neighbors for a young man, and get him to go to the camp."
"Jotham Frost was the only child of the sick woman up-stairs. At that
time she was in good health, earning a comfortable support by her
own exertions. Jotham had, from a child, been often employed in our
family,—sometimes to pick strawberries, sometimes to run of errands,
and of later years as groom. He was extremely fond of horses, and had a
peculiar faculty for managing them."
"On the night I speak of, he at once signified his willingness to
proceed to L—, and carry a letter to his master."
"The next evening, Mr. Dobbs reached home. But he was so changed I
scarcely knew him. Camp life had proved unfavorable to his health, and
he now and then startled me by a dry, hollow cough. Then he had passed
the whole day in the city, trying to straighten out his affairs, and
assist the police who were in pursuit of the wicked clerk. He retired
to bed, but he could not sleep. He rose, and, going into the next room,
began to pace the floor. Then I heard his voice in prayer. I joined
him and kneeled by his side. He was beseeching his heavenly Father to
make known to him the path of duty. 'If my country demands of me this
sacrifice,—my health; my life; my property,—if it is thy will, O God!
help me to submit cheerfully. I give it all into thy hands, lead me by
thy finger.'"
"After this he retired to bed and slept peacefully for several hours."
"When we went to breakfast, and a sad meal it was, I saw Jotham busy
in the yard with the horses. I noticed that he kept looking toward the
window, and throwing up the sash I spoke to him.
"'I want to see Mr. Dobbs, afore he leaves the house!' he said eagerly."
"We went through the form of eating, and then once more committed
ourselves and all our anxieties to God."
"Your father then went out to see Jotham. I stood gazing abstractedly
from the window, and I wondered what could be the subject of
conversation. We often ask God to help us, and then we wonder at his
readiness to do so. While we had been speaking God had heard. But of
this I knew nothing at the time. I saw Jotham growing every moment more
earnest and excited. I witnessed my husband's motion of dissent again
and again; then they came quickly toward the house, but passed the door
and went toward the cottage of Mrs. Frost."
"I cannot tell you yet what an hour that was which followed to the
poor, lone widow. I knew nothing of it at the time. At the end of it my
husband and Jotham came back together. The young man was dressed in his
Sunday suit, and looked bright and handsome. There was a light in his
eye I had never noticed before."
"'Put the black mare into the open buggy as quickly as possible,' said
my husband in an excited tone, 'and I'll be ready.'"
"I couldn't account for it, but he seemed anxious to avoid my eye. He
made some hurried changes in his dress, then was about to leave the
room, but turned and pressed me in his arms, whispering, 'Pray for me
to-day, Mary; put your trust in God and hope for the best.'"
"His tone was so earnest that I began to weep. I had not the slightest
suspicion what he was about to do. The day passed wearily enough. Had I
known that my nearest neighbor was crying her very life away, I should
have tried to comfort her. Many, many times I retired to my closet and
asked my Father in heaven to prosper my dear husband in his endeavors
to arrange his business; and if trial were before us, to help us submit
cheerfully to his will."
"It was nearly dusk when I heard the sound of wheels; and, rushing to
the door, saw my husband sitting by the side of Widow Frost, while
Jotham walked proudly up the yard by them. He took his mother in his
arms and set her upon the steps, while Mr. Dobbs called a servant to
take away the horse, and then followed them into the house."
"'Call Jane and Thomas,' he said to me. 'I want to see you all in the
parlor.'"