s an easy
thing for Dr. P. to say: "Tell him he must die," but a cruelly hard
thing to do, and by no means as "comfortable" as he politely suggested.
I had not the heart to do it then, and privately indulged the hope that
some change for the better might take place, in spite of gloomy
prophesies; so, rendering my task unnecessary. A few minutes later, as
I came in again, with fresh rollers, I saw John sitting erect, with no
one to support him, while the surgeon dressed his back. I had never
hitherto seen it done; for, having simpler wounds to attend to, and
knowing the fidelity of the attendant, I had left John to him, thinking
it might be more agreeable and safe; for both strength and experience
were needed in his case. I had forgotten that the strong man might long
for the gentle tendance of a woman's hands, the sympathetic magnetism
of a woman's presence, as well as the feebler souls about him. The
Doctor's words caused me to reproach myself with neglect, not of any
real duty perhaps, but of those little cares and kindnesses that solace
homesick spirits, and make the heavy hours pass easier. John looked
lonely and forsaken just then, as he sat with bent head, hands folded
on his knee, and no outward sign of suffering, till, looking nearer, I
saw great tears roll down and drop upon the floor. It was a new sight
there; for, though I had seen many suffer, some swore, some groaned,
most endured silently, but none wept. Yet it did not seem weak, only
very touching, and straightway my fear vanished, my heart opened wide
and took him in, as, gathering the bent head in my arms, as freely as
if he had been a little child, I said, "Let me help you bear it, John."

Never, on any human countenance, have I seen so swift and beautiful a
look of gratitude, surprise and comfort, as that which answered me more
eloquently than the whispered--

"Thank you, ma'am, this is right good! this is what I wanted!"

"Then why not ask for it before?"

"I didn't like to be a trouble; you seemed so busy, and I could manage
to get on alone."

"You shall not want it any more, John."

Nor did he; for now I understood the wistful look that sometimes
followed me, as I went out, after a brief pause beside his bed, or
merely a passing nod, while busied with those who seemed to need me
more than he, because more urgent in their demands; now I knew that to
him, as to so many, I was the poor substitute for mother, wife, or
sister, and in his eyes no