"MY FRIENDSHIP IS MINE TO GIVE."
STRAHAN'S convalescence need not be dwelt upon, nor the subtle aid
given by Marian through flowers, fruit, and occasional calls upon
his mother.
These little kindnesses were tonics beyond the physician's skill,
and he grew stronger daily. Mrs. Strahan believed that things were
taking their natural course, and, with the delicacy of a lady,
was content to welcome the young girl in a quiet, cordial manner.
Merwyn tacitly accepted the mother's view, which she had not wholly
concealed in the sick-room, and which he thought had been confirmed
by Marian's manner and interest. With returning health Strahan's
old sense of humor revived, and he often smiled and sighed over
the misapprehension. Had he been fully aware of Marian's mood, he
might have given his physician cause to look grave over an apparent
return of fever.
In the reticence and delicacy natural to all the actors in this
little drama, thoughts were unspoken, and events drifted on in
accordance with the old relations. Merwyn's self-imposed duties of
nurse became lighter, and he took much-needed rest. Strahan felt
for him the strongest good-will and gratitude, but grew more and
more puzzled about him. Apparently the convalescent was absolutely
frank concerning himself. He spoke of his esteem and regard for
Marian as he always had done; his deeper affection he never breathed
to any one, although he believed the young girl was aware of it,
and he did not in the least blame her that she had no power to give
him more than friendship.
Of his military plans and hopes he spoke without reserve to Merwyn,
but in return received little confidence. He could not doubt the
faithful attendant who had virtually twice saved his life, but he
soon found a barrier of impenetrable reserve, which did not yield
to any manifestations of friendliness. Strahan at last came to
believe that it veiled a deep, yet hopeless regard for Marian. This
view, however, scarcely explained the situation, for he found his
friend even more reticent in respect to the motives which kept him
a civilian.
"I'd give six months' pay," said the young officer, on one occasion,
"if we had you in our regiment, and I am satisfied that I could
obtain a commission for you. You would be sure of rapid promotion.
Indeed, with your wealth and influence you could secure
a lieutenant-colonelcy in a new regiment by spring. Believe me,
Merwyn, the place for us young fellows is at the front in these
times. My blood's up,--what little I have left,--and I'm bound to
see the scrimmage out. You have just the qualities to make a good
officer. You could control and discipline men without bluster or
undue harshness. We need such officers, for an awful lot of cads
have obtained commissions."
Merwyn had walked to a window so that his friend could not see his
face, and at last he replied, quietly and almost coldly: "There
are some things, Strahan, in respect to which one cannot judge for
another. I am as loyal as you are now, but I must aid the cause in
my own way. I would prefer that you should not say anything more
on this subject, for it is of no use. I have taken my course, and
shall reveal it only by my action. There is one thing that I can
do, and shall be very glad to do. I trust we are such good friends
that you can accept of my offer. Your regiment has been depleted.
New men would render it more effective and add to your chances of
promotion. It will be some time before you are fit for active service.
I can put you in the way of doing more than your brother-officers
in the regiment, even though you are as pale as a ghost. Open
a recruiting office near your country home again,--you can act at
present through a sergeant,--and I will give you a check which will
enable you to add to the government bounty so largely that you can
soon get a lot of hardy country fellows. No one need know where
the money comes from except ourselves."
Strahan laughed, and said: "It is useless for me to affect
squeamishness in accepting favors from you at this late day. I
believed you saved my life last summer, and now you are almost as
haggard as I am from watching over me. I'll take your offer in good
faith, as I believe you mean it. I won't pose as a self-sacrificing
patriot only. I confess that I am ambitious. You fellows used
to call me 'little Strahan.' YOU are all right now, but there are
some who smile yet when my name is mentioned, and who regard my
shoulder-straps as a joke. I've no doubt they are already laughing
at the inglorious end of my military career. I propose to prove
that I can be a soldier as well as some bigger and more bewhiskered
men. I have other motives also;" and his thought was, "Marian may
feel differently if I can win a colonel's eagles."
Merwyn surmised as much, but he only said, quietly: "Your motives
are as good as most men's, and you have proved yourself a brave,
efficient officer. That would be enough for me, had I not other
motives also."
"Hang it all! I would tell you my motives if you would be equally
frank."
"Since I cannot be, you must permit me to give other proofs
of friendship. Nor do I expect, indeed I should be embarrassed by
receiving, what I cannot return."
"You're an odd fish, Merwyn. Well, I have ample reason to give you
my faith and loyalty, as I do. Your proposition has put new life
into me already. I needn't spend idle weeks--"
"Hold on. One stipulation. Your physician must regulate all your
actions. Remember that here, as at the front, the physician is, at
times, autocrat."
Mervvyn called twice on Marian during his friend's convalescence,
and could no longer complain of any lack of politeness. Indeed, her
courtesy was slightly tinged with cordiality, and she took occasion
to speak of her appreciation of his vigils at Strahan's side. Beyond
this she showed no disposition towards friendliness. At the same,
time, she could not even pretend to herself that she was indifferent.
He piqued both her pride and her curiosity, for he made no further
effort to reveal himself or to secure greater favor than she
voluntarily bestowed. She believed that her father looked upon her
course as an instance of feminine prejudice, of resentment prolonged
unnaturally and capriciously,--that he was saying to himself, "A
man would quarrel and have done with it after amends were made,
but a woman--"
"He regards this as my flaw, my weakness, wherein I differ from him
and his kind," she thought. "I can't help it. Circumstances have
rendered it impossible for me to feel toward Mr. Merwyn as toward
other men. I have thought the matter out and have taken my stand.
If he wishes more than I now give he must come up to my ground,
for I shall not go down to his."
She misunderstood her father. That sagacious gentleman said nothing,
and quietly awaited developments.
It was a glad day for Arthur Strahan when, wrapped and muffled
beyond all danger, he was driven, in a close carriage, to make an
afternoon visit to Marian. She greeted him with a kindness that
warmed his very soul, and even inspired hopes which he had, as yet,
scarcely dared to entertain. Time sped by with all the old easy
interchange of half-earnest nonsense. A deep chord of truth and
affection vibrated through even jest and merry repartee. Yet, so
profound are woman's intuitions in respect to some things, that,
now she was face to face with him again, she feared, before an hour
passed, that he could never be more to her than when she had given
him loyal friendship in the vine-covered cottage in the country.
"By the way," he remarked, abruptly, "I suppose you never punished
Merwyn as we both, at one time, felt that he deserved? He admits
that he calls upon you quite frequently, and speaks of you in terms
of strongest respect. You know I am his sincere, grateful friend
henceforth. I don't pretend to understand him, but I trust him,
and wish him well from the depths of my heart."
"I also wish him well," Marian remarked, quietly.
He looked at her doubtfully for a moment, then said, "Well, I
suppose you have reasons for resentment, but I assure you he has
changed very greatly."
"How do you know that, when you don't understand him?"
"I do know it," said the young fellow, earnestly. "Merwyn never
was like other people. He is marked by ancestry; strong-willed,
reticent on one side, proud and passionate on the other. My own
mother was not more untiring and gentle with me than he, yet if I
try to penetrate his reserve he becomes at once distant, and almost
cold. When I thought he was seeking to amuse himself with you I
felt like strangling him; now that I know he has a sincere respect
for you, if not more, I have nothing against him. I wish he would
join us in the field, and have said as much to him more than once.
He has the means to raise a regiment himself, and there are few
possessing more natural ability to transform raw recruits into
soldiers."
"Why does he not join you in the field?" she asked, quickly, and
there was a trace of indignation in her tones.
"I do not think he will ever speak of his reasons to any one. At
least, he will not to me."
"Very well," she said; and there was significance in her cold,
quiet tones.
"They result from no lack of loyalty," earnestly resumed Strahan,
who felt that for some reason he was not succeeding as his friend's
advocate. "He has generously increased my chances of promotion by
giving me a large sum towards recruiting my regiment."
"After your hard experience, are you fully determined to go back?"
she asked, with a brilliant smile. "Surely you have proved your
courage, and, with your impaired health, you have a good reason
not for leaving the task to stronger men."
"And take my place contentedly among the weaker ones in your
estimation?" he added, flushing. "How could you suggest or think
such a thing? Certainly I shall go back as soon as my physician
permits, and I shall go to stay till the end, unless I am knocked
over or disabled."
Her eyes flashed exultantly as she came swiftly to him. "Now you
can understand me," she said, giving him her hand. "My friendship
and honor are for men like you and Mr. Lane and Mr. Blauvelt, who
offer all, and not for those who offer--MONEY."
"By Jove, Miss Marian, you make me feel as if I could storm Richmond
single-handed."
"Don't think I say this in any callous disregard of what may happen.
God knows I do not; but in times like these my heart chooses friends
among knightly men who voluntarily go to meet other men as brave.
Don't let us talk any more about Mr. Merwyn. I shall always treat
him politely, and I have gratefully acknowledged my indebtedness for
his care of you. He understands me, and will give me no opportunity
to do as you suggested, were I so inclined. His conversation is
that of a cultivated man, and as such I enjoy it; but there it all
ends."
"But I don't feel that I have helped my friend in your good graces
at all," protested Strahan, ruefully.
"Has he commissioned you to help him?" she asked, quickly.
"No, no, indeed. You don't know Merwyn, or you never would have
asked that question."
"Well, I prefer as friends those whom I do know, who are not
inshrouded in mystery or incased in reticence. No, Arthur Strahan,
my friendship is mine to give, be it worth much or little. If he
does not care enough for it to take the necessary risks, when the
bare thought of shunning them makes you flush hotly, he cannot
have it. All his wealth could not buy one smile from me. Now let
all this end. I respect your loyalty to him, but I have my own
standard, and shall abide by it;" and she introduced another topic.