t a sudden fear lest her father would not take him
in. He was, however, given lodging, and he stayed on and on, and
helped her father on the farm. He knew more than any one she had ever
seen, and he bought her books and taught her. The girl's whole life
seemed to open up under his influence, and in his presence. She used
to wander with him through the pleasant woods; among the blossoms; in
the moonlight; reading with him the books he brought her; finding new
realms of which she had never dreamed. Then one evening he had leaned
over, and put his arm around her and begun to speak as he had never
spoken before. Her happiness was almost a pain, and yet it was only
such pain as the bud must feel when the warm sun unfolds its petals and
with its deep eyes seeks its fragrant heart. The young girl's life
suddenly opened as that rose opens; and for a time she seemed to walk
in paradise. Then clouds had gathered; talk of war disturbed the peace
of her quiet life. Her lover was on one side, her father on the other.
One day the storm burst. War came. Her husband felt that he must go.
Her father said that if she went with him she could never more come
back. Her heart was torn asunder and yet she could not hesitate. Her
place was with her husband. So she had parted from her father; she
half fainting with sorrow, he white and broken, yet both sustained by
the sense of duty. For a time there had been great happiness in a baby
girl, who, though feeble, was the light of her eyes. The doctors said
if she were taken care of she would outgrow her trouble. Then came a
bitterer parting than the first; her husband went off to the war,
leaving her a stranger in a strange land, with only her baby. Even
this was not the worst. Shortly came the terrible tidings that her
husband had been desperately wounded and left in the enemy's hands.
She must go to him. She learned at the last moment that she could not
take her child with her. Yet it was life or death. She must go. Then
Providence had seemed to open the way. Unexpectedly she met an old
friend; a woman who had been a servant of her mother's in the old days
back at her old home. Though she had one weakness, one fault, she was
good and kind, and she had always been devoted to her. She would take
care of her child. So she left the little girl with her, together with
the few pieces of jewelry she possessed. She herself set off to go
through the lines to her husband. It was