Love stories; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
Strahan changed the subject, but thought: "She's loyal to her friends.
Merwyn, with all his money, has made no progress. Her choice will
eventually fall on Lane, Blauvelt, or poor little me. Thank Heaven
I gave the Johnnies the slip! The other fellows shall have a fair
field, but I want one, too."
Before they had finished their breakfast Blauvelt came tearing in,
and there was a fire of questions between the brother-officers.
Tears and laughter mingled with their words; but at last they
became grave and quiet as they realized how many brave comrades
would march with them no more.
In a few moments Blauvelt said, "Come; Miss Marian said she would
not take a mouthful of breakfast till you returned with me."
Merwyn saw them drive away, and said, bitterly, "Thanks to my
mother, I shall never have any part in such greetings."
CHAPTER XXXVII.
STRAHAN'S ESCAPE.
AFTER Blauvelt had left Mr. Vosburgh's breakfast-table in obedience
to his own and Marian's wish to see Strahan at once, the young girl
laughed outright--she would laugh easily to-day--and exclaimed:--
"Poor Mr. Merwyn! He is indeed doomed to inglorious inaction. Before
he could even start on his search, Strahan found him. His part in
this iron age will consist only in furnishing the sinews of war
and dispensing canned delicacies in the hospitals. I do feel sorry
for him, for last night he seemed to realize the fact himself. He
looked like a ghost, back in the shadow that he sought when Captain
Blauvelt's story grew tragic. I believe he suffered more in hearing
about the shells than Mr. Blauvelt did in hearing and seeing them."
"It's a curious case," said her father, musingly. "He was and has
been suffering deeply from some cause. I have not fully accepted
your theory yet."
"Since even your sagacity can construct no other, I am satisfied
that I am right. But I have done scoffing at Mr. Merwyn, and should
feel as guilty in doing so as if I had shown contempt for physical
deformity. I have become so convinced that he suffers terribly from
consciousness of his weakness, that I now pity him from the depths
of my heart. Just think of a young fellow of his intelligence
listening to such a story as we heard last night and of the inevitable
contrasts that he must have drawn!"
"Fancy also," said her father, smiling, "a forlorn lover seeing
your cheeks aflame and your eyes suffused with tears of sympathy
for young heroes, one of whom was reciting his epic. Strahan is
soon to repeat his; then Lane will appear and surpass them all."
"Well," cried Marian, laughing, "you'll admit they form a trio to
be proud of."
"Oh, yes, and will have to admit more, I suppose, before long.
Girls never fall in love with trios."
"Nonsense, papa, they are all just like brothers to me." Then there
was a rush of tears to her eyes, and she said, brokenly, "The war
is not over yet, and perhaps not one of them will survive."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account