see,--that
my boy's indisposition had not detained you. Home and his good nurse
Mountain, and his mother and our good Doctor Dempster, will soon restore
him. 'Twas scarce necessary, Colonel, that you, who have so many affairs
on your hands, military and domestic, should turn doctor too."

"Harry was ill and weak, and I thought it was my duty to ride by him,"
faltered the Colonel.

"You yourself, sir, have gone through the fatigues and dangers of the
campaign in the most wonderful manner," said the widow, curtseying
again, and looking at him with her impenetrable black eyes.

"I wish to Heaven, madam, some one else had come back in my place!"

"Nay, sir, you have ties which must render your life more than ever
valuable and dear to you, and duties to which, I know, you must be
anxious to betake yourself. In our present deplorable state of doubt and
distress, Castlewood can be a welcome place to no stranger, much less
to you, and so I know, sir, you will be for leaving us ere long. And you
will pardon me if the state of my own spirits obliges me for the most
part to keep my chamber. But my friends here will bear you company as
long as you favour us, whilst I nurse my poor Harry upstairs. Mountain,
you will have the cedar-room on the ground-floor ready for Mr.
Washington, and anything in the house is at his command. Farewell, sir.
Will you be pleased to present my compliments to your mother, who will
be thankful to have her son safe and sound out of the war,--as also
to my young friend Martha Custis, to whom and to whose children I
wish every happiness. Come, my son!" and with these words, and another
freezing curtsey, the pale little woman retreated, looking steadily at
the Colonel, who stood dumb on the floor.

Strong as Madam Esmond's belief appeared to be respecting her son's
safety, the house of Castlewood naturally remained sad and gloomy.
She might forbid mourning for herself and family; but her heart was
in black, whatever face the resolute little lady persisted in wearing
before the world. To look for her son, was hoping against hope. No
authentic account of his death had indeed arrived, and no one appeared
who had seen him fall; but hundreds more had been so stricken on that
fatal day, with no eyes to behold their last pangs, save those of the
lurking enemy and the comrades dying by their side. A fortnight after
the defeat, when Harry was absent on his quest, George's servant,
Sady, reappeared wounded and mai