stranger, but a friend who hitherto had
seemed neglectful; for, in his modesty, he had never guessed the truth.
This was changed now; and, through the tedious operation of probing,
bathing, and dressing his wounds, he leaned against me, holding my hand
fast, and, if pain wrung further tears from him, no one saw them fall
but me. When he was laid down again, I hovered about him, in a
remorseful state of mind that would not let me rest, till I had bathed
his face, brushed his "bonny brown hair," set all things smooth about
him, and laid a knot of heath and heliotrope on his clean pillow. While
doing this, he watched me with the satisfied expression I so liked to
see; and when I offered the little nosegay, held it carefully in his
great hand, smoothed a ruffled leaf or two, surveyed and smelt it with
an air of genuine delight, and lay contentedly regarding the glimmer of
the sunshine on the green. Although the manliest man among my forty, he
said, "Yes, ma'am," like a little boy; received suggestions for his
comfort with the quick smile that brightened his whole face; and now
and then, as I stood tidying the table by his bed, I felt him softly
touch my gown, as if to assure himself that I was there. Anything more
natural and frank I never saw, and found this brave John as bashful as
brave, yet full of excellencies and fine aspirations, which, having no
power to express themselves in words, seemed to have bloomed into his
character and made him what he was.

After that night, an hour of each evening that remained to him was
devoted to his ease or pleasure. He could not talk much, for breath was
precious, and he spoke in whispers; but from occasional conversations,
I gleaned scraps of private history which only added to the affection
and respect I felt for him. Once he asked me to write a letter, and as
I settled pen and paper, I said, with an irrepressible glimmer of
feminine curiosity, "Shall it be addressed to wife, or mother, John?"

"Neither, ma'am; I've got no wife, and will write to mother myself when
I get better. Did you think I was married because of this?" he asked,
touching a plain ring he wore, and often turned thoughtfully on his
finger when he lay alone.

"Partly that, but more from a settled sort of look you have; a look
which young men seldom get until they marry."

"I didn't know that; but I'm not so very young, ma'am, thirty in May,
and have been what you might call settled this ten years; for mother's